There was a big man named Stein
Who spent hours a day in the mine
Every gem that he found
Made a sparkling sound
But he cared not for the ev'ryday find
He could scarcely believe his eyes
For he was neither gracious nor wise
But despite all his flaws
His dog raised it paws
And repaid his good friend in kind
It were the best times of his life
The times that were free of strife
On the ground with his friend
His broken heart would mend
And he would attain peace of mind
He was not the sentimental type
But you'd find him hard pressed to wipe
His emotions away
When his dog wanted to play
And put to a halt all the grind
YOU ARE READING
roogymirror's Poems: Vol. I
PoesíaNew poems added monthly. Subject, type, rhythm, rhyme, and length of the poems will change according to what I want to write in a given month. Current number of poems: 33 When I get to 60 poems, this will be considered a complete collection and subs...
