Forewarned Is Forearmed Poem by Graham Fowell
Forewarned Is Forearmed
My arm keeps bringing me lager
And much more than I really need;
When I just wanted to sit there
To contemplate life or to read.
Take Monday night for example,
While I sat quietly there,
My arm brought me nine pints of Fosters
And later I fell off my chair
Monday, July 14, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: humour
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4/24/2024 7:48:27 PM # 1.0.0.1119
