Gordon Jerome


King - Poem by Gordon Jerome

As I walk down this trail
Swinging my tail
Theres a hush in the air all around
From the apes in the trees
To an elephants sneeze
There simply ceases to be any sound
Because when I walk this path
They all fear my wrath
It's not nice to mess with the king
For when you hear me roar
You know that once more
I'm out fetching for her majesty the queen.
'closing thought'
Lets face it men again and again
We'll do what the fair lady ask
Open the door or near any chore
Whatever she deems is our task


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Poem Submitted: Saturday, May 8, 2010



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