Tony Avila Sampson

Whistling Tires

When I bent and reached there down,

The tire made a hissing sound;


I made a puncture with each blow,  

Released the air and let it flow;


Now look who got that simple gift,

Some flat tires, did so swift;


See the car I'm standing near?

Has whistling tires that I hear!

Poem Submitted: Tuesday, July 12, 2005
Poem Edited: Tuesday, January 21, 2014

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Comments about Whistling Tires by Tony Avila Sampson

  • Floyd Sampson (11/9/2009 3:27:00 PM)

    Slashing thy tire,
    slashing thy tire,
    that is the penalty,
    of the ungodly liar.

    Report Reply
    Tony Sampson(4/23/2015 12:19:00 PM)

    POP, Pssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssh...........

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