Motor Home Funeral Poem by Nick Briggs

Motor Home Funeral



A fork has three prongs
I am a cucumber
I live in a shoe
I have no friends
Bring your cat
We can make smoothies
He hasent seen the sun in 21 years
And she's never worn a hat
A tear slips out as he eats his hair
And I can hear the bugs in my walls
Sundays coming
I brought my red raincoat
I want my funeral in my RV
And my goldfish can't come
He knows what he did

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Jacob Earsing 06 February 2008

Hah! thats like the funniest poem ever! Coulda never thought of that!

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