The Prat Poem by Phil Soar

The Prat



I laugh when I should really cry
It helps my troubled mind
I giggle out loud in the night
My troubles left behind
I pull a face in a public place
Just as a sense of fun
I'm known to stand in bathing trunks
And soak up lots of sun
And underneath my outer skin
I'm really quite a prat
But I like to write the oddest things
I guess I'm made like that

Friday, April 3, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: nonsense
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