My Guts Reek
I've come to wash my face
To lose that patina of hope
Dispel that foul reek
And redden my cheek
Greetings, Mr. Razor!
I've come to shave my beard
I refuse to use a laser
I want to be a Greek
With a chin smooth and sleek
Howdy, Mrs. Tissue!
I've come to blow my nose
Sometimes I do really miss you
Your comfort I seek
When I need to tend my beak.
Contributors: | quasi, Nym, Roland, N, Anon., F, Karin. |
Poem finished: | 2nd September 2003. |