Below is the poem entitled A Better Putter which was written by poet
Horn. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.
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A Better Putter
I have an iron which is a nine
Which some say has become benign;
Balls have been slow as molasses
So I had to take a couple of classes.
From the whole course I got cut
Because I never learned how to put.
And you should see the terrible scar
When they beat me for not making par.
All my balls were up against the wall
Until I saw a great, gorgeous gal;
Should we play around for a while;
She sure had guessed my golfing style.
To avoid all of the trash and clutter
I then tried to buy a better putter
But on course dead body does remain;
All my drives had driven them insane.