I am new here and how bad needs the poem to be.
Can see several in my head,
But on paper in words
There they never show their faces.
I look and look,
Its them I cannot find.
Out the window and
Though the heavy wood,
The chase remains empty.
Alone.
Can see several in my head,
But on paper in words
There they never show their faces.
I look and look,
Its them I cannot find.
Out the window and
Though the heavy wood,
The chase remains empty.
Alone.
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Re: High
Fri, March 14, 2008 - 9:31 PMFind thee a bridge to lord it under
For the north wind blows cruel cold
So said the one-eyed man
And draughts and ale and song were had
Joustled ye merrymakers in slang
Falling
Falling
Upon the unsurprised
