Hobbo's Poems
A quirky look at life from a Yorkshire poet and his dog's perspective
Till death us do part
Till death us do part
Half asleep and yawning,
You took the downtown train,
A misty, murky morning,
I never saw you again.
Burning rubber, squealing brakes,
Tired driver at the wheel,
Too late now, to fix mistakes
And tell you how I feel.
It was the old, old story,
You left me for another,
But God can keep his glory,
And I will have your brother.
good poem
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While you were sleeping, nice.
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😂 Indeed, yes.
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So sad and then that little birdie at the end just waving its opportunistic knuckle. 😅😅
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😂 Never one to miss an opportunity!
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What an unexpected trade off. 😁
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All is fair and all that! 😊
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