Don't expect me
to tell you,
but cheap razors,
leave nicks in effect
of my having gone cheaper,
And the face is ill
prepared to know it's place,
when money has become
an annoyance,
Get away from me now,
you cheap
ineffective *****!
get out
of my integral mirrors,
I need to work it out...
For the embarressment
in my secret chamber
of ladies
and just treatment,
Besides the taste
of my own blood,
will find me out,
For once again I am
just cheap
and dreaming of fine
regal Gilettes,
For what are payments,
yet to become big again,
And a true sword
for the everyday warrior,
out to win,
and not feel ripped off,
for the sake of an
everyday shave...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
true sword of everyday warriors. good write. thanks. I invite you to read my poems and comment.