Dirty Socks

1 Comments

Dirty Socks

Socks can be dirty, Socks can be clean

But there’s one under my bed

He’s a mean, stinky odor machine

He haunts me at night

After my parents tell me to go to bed

He creeps up to my face

He always says the same thing

‘My name is Creepy, or Smelly Ned,

And I’m thinkin’ you have a comfortable bed.’

He smelled so bad, I couldn’t go to sleep

I even thought I’d try counting sheep,

But there we’re none in sight

So I knew that this would be a long night.

But, The next morning was laundry day

As my mother told me and left the room

Smelly Ned screamed ‘NO WAY! NO WAY!’

‘Yes way, today is the day, you better not cry, your stinky days are over, and that’s no lie.

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Qualin commented on Dirty Socks

09-07-2010

ANOTHER UNIQUE POEM ALOT OF TALENT MY FRIEND,SOON YOU'LL BE PUBLISHED AND WONT KNOW OLE QUALIN ANYMORE..LOL GOOD WRITE GOD BLESS!!!!

Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.

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Carmonie’s Poems (15)

Title Comments
Title Comments
Lovesick 2
R.I.P (I Thought You Were Dead) 5
Perspective Of A Murderer 1
What's To Gain, Besides The Pain 1
Do Your Own Thing 1
Over 0
Meaning Of Glamour 1
Keep On 0
Dirty Socks 1
The Adventures Of A Child 0
Little House On The Prarie 0
Puberty 1
A Heart 0
Life Poem 0
W.A.B (Will Always Be) 0