Young Old Bull
My, he really is something, my egotistical friend -
Enigmatic and choleric he will be till the very end;
Youth, the loss of it, causes him no alarm, he's just so cool,
Outwardly, creaky bones and all, he still acts like a young bull.
Keep going, old boy, I pray, till the next grandchild comes your way.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
