This silly poem is in response to this week’s FBTF, and the question –What conversation would you like to have with your parents, that you never had yet?
Dear Mom and Dad,
I want to thank you both
for so many special things-
but, just one question:
why the bangs?
I’m ever so grateful
for my steel guitar twangs,
but when I look back at photos
I wonder, why the heck bangs?
Thank you for a musical childhood,
the lullabies you sang,
I can still hear that St. Louis trolly go clang.
But, why on earth the terrible bangs?
I looked just like Lilly Munster
without any fangs.
I’ve wanted to ask you for years,
why mutant bangs?
In case you’re not hearing me
let’s try some slang,
I spent years with a twinge
from a lopsided fringe.
My plan is not to harangue,
but I still carry the pangs
of those terrible, awful,
no-good, really bad bangs.
Yard Sale of Thoughts 
Leave a comment