Ireland
Plink Plonk
Pitter Patter
The ship done sunk
But it don't matter
The lady pretend she don't know
Sitting pretty, still making chatter
Trying to make sure it don't show
But we'll find out, sooner than latter
Plink Plonk
Just a loud clatter
Tears in a bucket
Cause her porcelain done shatter
YOU ARE READING
Plonk
Poetrya collecтιon oғ poeмѕ, ѕнorт ѕтorιeѕ, ιncoмpleтe тнoυgнтѕ, venтѕ, and raιny day wrιтιngѕ.
