'Back in the days
They never used to come
But now when they see us
They run, run, run'
Back in the days
Of dressings stereotyped
When all that he wore
Was striped on striped
Back in the days
The soles of his shoes were pitted
Ignored and jested
He longed for shirts fitted
His Dream looked down on Dreamer
For even his ties could spook
And with hairline recession plus elf ears
Last thing he needed was the look of a rook!
His trousers wrinkled at the waist
For Mother bought them big
Big, and so were his pinnae
If the barber came too low, he'd need a wig
But like Sound Sultan said
Those were 'back in the days'
Now he wears fitted designers
And can't seem NOT to daze!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem