David Darbyshire (6/11/54 / Darwen England)
I have had my levis a very long time,
rips and tears, patches on patches.
25 years, of a stitch in time, saves nine,
so many different colors, nothing matches.
I love my Jeans so much,
if them, I could only touch.
There hanging behind a frame,
it's not quite the same.
I want to wear my Jeans,
I love my blue pants.
I think it's in my Genes,
or are they called trousers?
I mean, to put your legs,
into that soft velvet.
A little low riding on the hip,
bell bottoms as well as a zip.
Comments about this poem (501 by David Darbyshire )
Top 500 Poems
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley