Humorous Poem

Humorous Poem About Ripping Pants

I ripped my pants at the knee today. In my distress, I mourned them for nearly thirteen minutes. This poem will be read as a eulogy at the funeral, where all my pants' friends-including that weird kilt they met once, will attend. Please be mindful of this somber affair, as I need time to recover from the loss.

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This is one of the best humor poems I have ever read!! I remember reciting the poem in a competition in grade seven. Not only did it win me first prize, it also got me a lot of praise....

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Ripped Pants, Broken Heart

Published by Family Friend Poems April 2015 with permission of the Author.

I lived my life, I tried my best to follow all my dreams.
My great endeavors were forever bursting at the seams.
And though I tried to love what's mine, I failed and I confess
My bony knees made pants like these suffer much distress

I heard a tearing sound, and I thought it was my heart
When I looked down with a frown, my pants did fall apart.
The ripping sound was not around at the greatest time
For when my knee skin felt cold air, it was less than sublime

And now I live my life, knee bare against the world alone.
Now everyone can plainly see my pale skin, joint, and bone.
My ripped up pants, like Frankenstein, I may just sew together
Or perhaps make my pants shorts to wear in warmer weather.

My pants are done, I have moved on. They've done their master well.
And pants don't live forever, not as far as I can tell.
But there's one problem I can't solve, and it I truly hate.
Does one bury their old dead pants, or do they just cremate?

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