At the tavern
At the bar
the other night
I met this
grizzly old
looking character
he had stained teeth
cigarette and dirt
stained hands
blood shot eyes
and a week
old beard
he turns and
looks at me
says,
ya know who I don't trust?
a man that don't
drink
swear
a woman that don't have
under arm hair
those that can't say
the god awful
truth
and especially those
that can't tell
a lie!
I put out my
hand says my name
and pleased to meet
ya!
He says likewise
I'm known as
Charles
I say to myself
you old
SOB!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem