Francie Lynch

Da - Poem by Francie Lynch

His drag-line pals
Called him Jemmy,
The little man
From Ireland.

Jemmy thought
Himself quite clever,
Cursed at us
With what you'd never
Call your own
Inside your home:
You're an ejit,
An egot, a clod,
A sod, a fool,
As useless as tits
On a bull.

When Jemmy got
Right roaring pissed
(Something he would seldom miss) ,
He hissed:
Ya pissmire.
Eyes burning cold red fire.

Thus was Daddy
Endeared to us.

His wit was keen,
Quick as mean,
As the charming fiend
Bellying out of Paradise.

His viscious,
Flicking tongue,
Left not knowing
The damage done.

Topic(s) of this poem: fathers

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Poem Submitted: Sunday, March 22, 2015

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