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Four Liners
Ladies, when he says he's yours
Better check those swinging doors.
Quick to come in, quicker to leave.
Better to lock the doors, I believe.
Oh to be the first to go
is an easier thing to bear.
For the one that's left is lonely
and feels that life's not fair.
Oh to hop a train, a rail
and see where it is going
used to be the hobo's life.
The fun was in not knowing?
Make some money. Stowe it away.
Save it for a rainy day.
If your days don't bring the rain.
Spend the money. Don't complain.
poem
by
Edwina Reizer
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