Monday, March 8, 2010

E.E Cummings TYPE POEM

hop, jump,race
is what the heart does
for that special someone
you heart race like running Track
as the magical man stands their to deliever
the words he feels for you
you drop dead before he expresses those feeling
he turns and head for his car
he sitting their thinking about what just happens
a car smacks dab on the side of him and kills him with that letters he had for you in his hand

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