I can tug and pull them all morning long,
Yet, sadly it's the same old song,
You are my favorites, Come on just fit,
We've been through too much for you to quit,
The grease stain from my beat up car,
The rip from the fight that was at the bar,
Through football, baseball, and fight nights you're there,
You've covered holey underwear,
On first dates, break ups, romances too,
Without you whatever will I do,
My problems are hitting me in bunches,
They have to fit, I'll do some crunches!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem