Hobbo's Poems
A quirky look at life from a Yorkshire poet and his dog's perspective
Men!
Men! Tommy Todger got to say exactly what they did that day. As they matured, he got control and dawned on him, Tom had no soul. Then as they aged, both grew grey hair and Tom required some small repairs. Before he dies, he'll lay to rest his funny, fickle sausage pest.
Hobbo's Poems 
You are a very cool storyteller 🙂
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😂 Thank you!
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There are many sadly like Tommy
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I know. But it does take two, apparently! 😂
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I can’t help thinking this is from something personal. I see many Tommy’s out there especially at my workplace
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I think that every workplace has it’s fair share of Tommy’s, Michele
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Nice poetry !
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love it
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Hehehe!
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Thinking with the wrong head. A chronic male disorder.
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Definitely!
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