Welcome Visitor: Login to the siteJoin the site


Tags: Humor, Poetry


Poem written 12/28/2012


Submitted:Dec 28, 2012    Reads: 14    Comments: 2    Likes: 2   


My Dingledork Snorkletube has burned out,

and I really don't know what to do.

The last time it happened there was plenty,

but now there's only one or two.

Without it this antique aint worth nothing,

they want it to work when they plug it in.

Can't take it to the Pawn Shop in this condition,

and who's around to restore it once again.

Back when old was new and meant to last,

put together right by proud men of craft.

Passed on down from a father to a son,

it's worth more as it ages gracefully.

But it's a broken down son of a gun,

gone now with a piece of you and me.

An oldie but a goodie, they won't last to long,

if you play them, or race them, or treat them wrong.

Though made to last forever, the parts you can't find,

modern day material has left them far behind.

All the trips to the junk yards and hobby shops,

can wear all our body's down.

Can't find what we need, so we let it drop,

there's not another like it no where around.

Back when old was new and meant to last,

put together right by proud men of craft.

Passed on down from a father to a son,

it's worth more now as it ages gracefully.

But it's a broken down son of a gun,

gone now with a piece of you and me.

My Dingledork Snorkletube has burned out,

and I really don't know what to do.

The last time it happened there was plenty,

but now there's only one or two...





2

| Email this story Email this Poetry | Add to reading list



Reviews

About | News | Contact | Your Account | TheNextBigWriter | Self Publishing | Advertise

© 2013 TheNextBigWriter, LLC. All Rights Reserved. Terms under which this service is provided to you. Privacy Policy.