My Croc Fred.

My croc Fred
Sometimes sleeps
In my bed
His eyes a
Light orange
In the morning
We eat porridge
He is scaly
But his skin
Is never paly
At the end of the day we
Sit by the bay
We watch the crocs and play
With the rocks
But sometimes I sit and wonder
What it would be like to play in the thunder
With a real crocodile.