Tick-Tock a mouse runs up the clock...
The clock struck one...
The mouse was gone...
And wasn't there again...

Poetry:

Sneaky and sly;
He can not fly;
Even if he were to try,

He does not have locks;
He is sometimes on rocks;
He has never built docks,

He doesn't wear hoods;
And prefers the woods;
He wouldn't talk if he could,

For he doesn't want to scare his prey;
He eats when he may;
He eats everything that's okay,

He's usually white, Orange and black;
He has his mates' back;
And hunts in a pack,

What animal is he?

I made the poetry so sorry if it's really bad...

See Ya
~Mystic