If you trust Mr. Ed,
Then you are as bad as he,
He constantly picks on me,
I feel about as big today as a flea…
Depressed he does cause me to be,
If you really looked & saw his abuse, I am sure you would agree,
I am really glad I live near the sea,
Afraid of ole mom ocean is he,
He calls me the Jersey Devil,
He doesn’t say though he is the Chicago banshee…
But don’t anybody cry for me,
Just don’t allow his viciousness to affect you to any degree,
Maybe into the backwoods I will have to hide in Tennessee,
But I won’t let it effect me, no more, I double dog guarantee…
© ed ~ 9/27/06
Share
Print
Save
Follow
Negotiator.
Wanna talk?
Susan
No picking sides,,,but go get him good!!
Love Tinka
I don't know which one is crying the loudest
enjoyed this piece
Peace be with you Brother
William
Or else what? says you. Er, em, I will count to 1,003!
Devil face (Joisey Devil dat is!)
Crying would be ......just a waste
Little Ed is mighty mean
He's the imp, we never see
What a phoney, to the bone
He's a rash, of midi tones
Poor Joisey Boi
Like your poem
pax Anita
Anyone reading this, please visit my poor picked on brother's poem - Gonna BBQ My Brother - and look what he's got on his grill - it ain't a pork chop!!
Having been picked on, I know how this feels. Well done, and don't let Ed get ya down!
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.