Man called DUD
There was a man called 'DUD'
Who thought himself a 'stud'
Infact he tried so hard
He quiffed his locks with lard
Unclipped a button from his shrt
Bore his hairy chest and tried to flirt
He sought a younger blonde/ brunette
Twenty somethings in a skirt
With his think lens he scanned the lonely hearts
And dyed his hair mexican red
And pencilled in a dark moustache
Above a top lip quiver
He swaggered in low slug 'ELVIS jeans'
In dark saloons
That made him shiver
He drank a pint or two alone
[he Had problems with his liver]
And caught a taxi home, alone
But still dud fought to be
The 'Great stud of the nation'
[Though he had problems with his circulation]
His jeans were unsightly and far too tight
He got a restless leg half way through the night
He tried so hard to join the party
But after one athritic dance
[...] Read more
poem by Yvette Smith
Added by Poetry Lover
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