Static clings to clothes,
Boogers cling to the end of your nose.
Pollution clings to create smog,
Fleas cling to the side of my dog.
Dirt clings in the form of mud,
Leeches cling to suck your blood.
Things that cling sure do blow
Especially when that thing's Joe Schmo.
So don't you ask me to spend,
Three dates with you in one weekend.
I ain't your girl, your mom, your shrink.
I've only known you for a drink!
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3 comments:
pray for bob hickman
I love this! Too funny and too true.
Here we are, nine years later, and I came looking for metaphors for things that cling and found your hilarious poem. Hope all is well with you!
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