How great is my father
That keeps me alive every
Single day
Here on earth
And every day
I look forward to wake up
In the morning
And see the sun
Shinning in my room
I have no problems
Getting up in the morning
Also I have no problem
Getting ready to start
The day
First thing I shave my
Face the old fashion way
With shaving cream
And a razor
But when I shave
I have to shave slowly
So I don't cut my face
And I find it to be
Very hard to do
That is not a chip way
To shave either
When I finish shaving
I jump in the shower
I turn the shower on
Then I pour some
Body wash in to my
Bath sponge
And I start to rub
It all over my body
Once it is finished
I rinse my body
Then I turn of
The tabs in the shower
Then I start to dry my body
With the bath towel
Now it is time to get dressed
In my casual clothes
That my father had given me
He had purchased it from
A second hand store
I don't see anything wrong with it
These are not poems. You have no followers. Get a clue—you criticize old men, and you are an old man.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is terrible … Stop wasting our time with this stuff. You have no followers because your sentences are not poems—they're rubbish.