Nonsense 16 Poem by Phil Soar

Nonsense 16



I picked my nose this morning
It bled, from my sharp nails
It won't stop me from snoring
Or stop the bogey trails
I stained my underwear last night
I'd eaten something rotten
The smell inside the bathroom
Is really best forgotten

Wednesday, December 17, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: nonsense
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