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.
David Darbyshire's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (501 by David Darbyshire )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
William Ernest Henley
- Your, Umasree Raghunath
- coal on the asphalt, a mile away, Mandolyn ...
- Jostled here and there, Emmanuel George Cefai
- Over the seas Over the waves, Emmanuel George Cefai
- Reunion, Umasree Raghunath
- Over The Edge Over The Slippery Ledges, Emmanuel George Cefai
- World War One, P.D. Turner
- The Poet-Seer irresistible, Emmanuel George Cefai
- Slow Fast But sure, Emmanuel George Cefai
- My Mocking Jay, Aaron Waingrow