On Principle I Suppose Poem by Steve Howard
On Principle I Suppose
Dirt, O dirt, O dirtious dirt,
mud and silt and sand.
It's found on your clothes,
tween your toes, up your nose,
and often is found on the hand.
But dirt, O dirt, without dirtious dirt,
just where in the world would we stand?
Friday, April 20, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: humorous
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5/8/2024 12:22:08 PM # 1.0.0.1119
