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

Poem

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