Phil Soar

Gold Star - 48,147 Points (28.06.1952)

Limerick 12 - Poem by Phil Soar

A man here was sent to Calcutta
As his language belonged in the gutter
Expletives galore
Were expelled from his jaw
A no-one much cared for his stutter

Topic(s) of this poem: limerick


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Poem Submitted: Monday, January 18, 2016



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