| ||||||||||
| ||||||||||
| ||||||||||
| ||||||||||
| ||||||||||
|
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Adult >> ID #1190773 |
| |||||||||||||
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A Hard Luck Story I was working as a cashier In a restaurant down in Yorkshire When the pointy glass chandelier Became a spear, became a spear. Of course I hid myself in fear But the tip of it came so near, It almost hit my rounded rear. Twas’ most severe, twas’ most severe. I thought the owner insincere When he jeered, “Hey, you’re safe; it’s clear.” I cried, “’Twas almost a rear shear. Pass me a beer, pass me a beer.” He grumbled, looking cavalier, “Get back to work or disappear.” I moaned, “Guess then, I’ll persevere, Wiping a tear, wiping a tear.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
© Copyright 2006 Shaara (UN: shaara at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved.
Shaara has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work. |