Your Poetry Dot Com

Array ( [sid] => 136387 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Les [time] => 2007-08-01 01:19:39 [hometext] => [bodytext] => Here愀 a little verse,
Dedicated to someone called Les,
Who lived in an attic above some industrial coolers,
And lived on Chilli and Beans.
Who worked bellow seventeen hours in the season,
When finished would put his jogging shorts on,
Return and knock the bejesus out of a punch bag.
But even when sorely provoked (by me) would never loose his rag.
He lived for winter and to Thailand he,d fly,
And lots of Thai beauties he would buy.
Never even bothering with precautions,
Now, he愀 probably dead as a door -nail of-course.
Or is he braving the chilly Dutch spring
to begin the whole circle again.....?
I wonder if he愀 sat in his attic,
In his eyes the mad gleam of a fanatic.
Tales of Batts and Bells.
And setting up a franchise for the New Scientologists.
(He really lost it there).
Yeah.....Bull-Loony Les.
Guess well never meet again,
But I send you my best.
Mike.

[comments] => 0 [counter] => 184 [topic] => 55 [informant] => zicky [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => dedicatedpoems ) Your Poetry Dot Com - Les

Les
Date: Wednesday, 1st August 2007 @ 01:19:39 AM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: zicky

Here愀 a little verse,
Dedicated to someone called Les,
Who lived in an attic above some industrial coolers,
And lived on Chilli and Beans.
Who worked bellow seventeen hours in the season,
When finished would put his jogging shorts on,
Return and knock the bejesus out of a punch bag.
But even when sorely provoked (by me) would never loose his rag.
He lived for winter and to Thailand he,d fly,
And lots of Thai beauties he would buy.
Never even bothering with precautions,
Now, he愀 probably dead as a door -nail of-course.
Or is he braving the chilly Dutch spring
to begin the whole circle again.....?
I wonder if he愀 sat in his attic,
In his eyes the mad gleam of a fanatic.
Tales of Batts and Bells.
And setting up a franchise for the New Scientologists.
(He really lost it there).
Yeah.....Bull-Loony Les.
Guess well never meet again,
But I send you my best.
Mike.

This poem is Copyright 穢 zicky

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