Sitting by the area,
Feeling so great to be with her friends once again.
Then taken away,
to accompany another lonely soul.
The subject arises,
The lids come down...
Telling another
"let things go slow"
Where's yours...She asked.
Its becoming history.
Slashing it;
The spirit washed out.
Many
Mousing the race
Whats the number that made it.
Queer, its just like an Hotchpotch
Whisk 'n' Bake Personal Nook 7/07/2003 01:35:00 AM
