Olay Poem by Phil Soar

Olay



I drank some Oil Of Olay, thinking it would smooth my throat,
I'm drinking milk from a local farm, from a Nanny Goat,
I stand at night in a compost heap, in the hope I'll grow a foot,
I live in a house with a raging fire, and my chimney's full of soot.

Friday, July 25, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: Funny
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