The Luck Of The Irish Poem by Brian Smith

The Luck Of The Irish



If I didn't have the luck of the Irish,
I wouldn't have any at all.
I wouldn't be smart.
I wouldn't be handsome.
And I certainly wouldn't be tall.

Without the luck of the Irish,
Everything I said would be Greek.
You couldn't understand anything I say.
So kiss me, I'm Irish.
At least I am for today.

I need the luck of the Irish.
Lucky charms help me cope.
Green beer keeps me sober.
When I root for Notre Dame,
I always carry my lucky four leaf clover.

If it weren't for the luck of the Irish,
The corner pub would be all closed up.
The road wouldn't rise up to greet me.
The sun wouldn't smile on me.
Leprechauns might even try to eat me.

Thank God for the luck of the Irish.
And bless my little Irish heart.
Thank God for the pluck of the Irish.
So bless my little Irish heart.
No to mention every other Irish part.

Friday, December 29, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: humor
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