Friday, December 28, 2007


A five align fine thing
For north capital ring
To find what tomorrow could brind
Under the mushrooms
My father and mother
Hand me upon with no lover
Will I this sing
Of how much extremes in such
It is I have been
Taking for their self righteous slings
Upon naught but that fraught with
Our shared ancestral wings
Being worth that I will be
For ever and a day
Paying eternity the way
God's love to sing
Willing is rightfully
Paid by work completed
Thus this to sing
No spoon need I bring
For I respect my own ancestral wind
And in my ice cream
The restaurant took their ice for
My mother's cream
Making her thirty three be
My forty four
And clean
So to sing this I mean
Is my own accountibility of love sure weaned

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