Where the hell are my socks?
I have no more
Portis and Coco
are at it again
all are torn, I can't wear them
Portis, the pit
Coco the Shepoo
playing tug of war
with my socks
so it's back to the store
I'ts never enough
to play with a toy
they still get the joy
for some reason, to sniff with my jocks and
tear up my socks
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Which would you prefer: your loved one's reeking shirt, or a fluffy store-bought chimera? lol.. love all your poems...(smile)