04-15-2021, 09:56 AM
The Old Man's Boot
Living the life in an old man’s boot.
The smell is inviting it makes me stay.
Inside where the old man makes a hoot.
Like an owl in the coldest of the night.
So, like him, I fit snugly in his shoes.
When the night comes, all is so right.
Then with a thud, I come crashing down.
I look around for what makes a man chirp.
Like a birdie in the forest around.
I am the old man’s leg oh so waxed and full.
Like a cold glass of milk to a child at all.
Then when I think and think and mull.
About what makes a leg so oh so naked.
The old man sits in the toilet constipated.
Living the life in an old man’s boot.
The smell is inviting it makes me stay.
Inside where the old man makes a hoot.
Like an owl in the coldest of the night.
So, like him, I fit snugly in his shoes.
When the night comes, all is so right.
Then with a thud, I come crashing down.
I look around for what makes a man chirp.
Like a birdie in the forest around.
I am the old man’s leg oh so waxed and full.
Like a cold glass of milk to a child at all.
Then when I think and think and mull.
About what makes a leg so oh so naked.
The old man sits in the toilet constipated.