Old Man Brxb

A place for my poems

Buying a Tie

By J. Carl Brooksby

I think that I shall never spy
A thing as useless as a tie.
A tie that lies upon your chest,
Outside your shirt, beneath your vest.

A tie, though it be bow or string,
Is such a silly, useless thing.
A tie – a narrow piece of cloth,
The cost of which will make you wroth.

A tie whose knot is pulled too tight,
Impedes your breath, impairs your sight.
I think that you should never try
To buy another man a tie.

A tie that would look good to me
May be repugnant unto thee.
I like this one that’s nice and pink.
But unto you, the tie might stink.

Or, how about this one that’s blue?
How is it going to look to you?
Or in your closet, on the rack,
All of your ties are blue or black.

So, you just go and buy your own,
And I will stick to writing poems.
Poems are made by fools like I,
But only you should buy your tie.

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