Get Your Premium Membership

Not Sinatra

NOT SINATRA No, Frank, he sure didn’t do it your way, Everything was doubtful - nothing in a sure way. Wasn’t rich, lived in a poor way, Drove fast on steep hill roads, not the flat shore way: And never slowed, even at the four-way. Big fat guy - like, how much can a floor weigh? Was too shy at parties - just stood in the doorway, But finally fell for a short brunette In Norway.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2018




Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.

Please Login to post a comment

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.


Book: Shattered Sighs