When people go by I think of that cry of some who must buy and not for them selves for some rich person that thinks they must die if whom does not buy. It is very rare to work for someone just as I speak of,though on a bleak winter day such bleak,bleak winter day, it's no such fun to be cold and weak in the snow that is oh so sleek.
Saturday, June 16, 2007
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1 comments:
Awesome poem. Your going to grow up as a poet I swear.
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