Friday, March 27, 2009

Poem: They Says

May the way be the day.
as the whey is from hey.

How is the bet like wet>
when wet is like bet.

Pans who likes cans can bend,
like Ben who lends a hand.

The hand that is like sand,
is sharp as a harp.

No matter how hard we try,
we can never fly that far.

when par four is no more,
ore is made into hordes.

Of course there is a farce,
a coarse is never smooth.

Like a fool...who spools over this.

DMB 01-28-06

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