Playing Poem by Phil Soar

Playing



My fingers play piano
Although I love guitar
I've written many rhapsodys
They have'nt got me far
My mind is a bass drummer
My hearing's not first class
I didn't hear that oboeist
Shove his black reed up my ass!

Wednesday, August 12, 2020
Topic(s) of this poem: humour
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Close
Error Success