George

My George the blueheller dog lays next to me and he smells like a dead frog.  

I wonder if that frog had been sitting on a log.  I reach over to give George a pet 

and know that was a mistake yet.  I now smell like dead frog but say oh well it’s part for a dog. 

This poem is about: 
Me

Comments

Parrott56

THank youngor this opportunity 

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