James the King

There is a King

who scans the town,

He has the jewels

under his crown.

Above his little spiky hair,

he wears his Goofy underwear.

No one knows what’s in his mind,

dirty thoughts of every kind.

Looking up at pretty girls skirts,

dreaming of what’s in the shirts.

In his mind he takes them home,

he always ends up all alone.

In his home he shakes his bone,

until he starts to moan and groan,

he's Italian like my friend Tone.

Going sadly off to bed,

crying cuz he gets no head.

anxious to see me again,
too bad for him
we are only friends.

Written by Christina Sunrise Feb.23,2011

poem by Suzae Chevalier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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