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I deserve a poem about me. Write me a poem, and I shall bestow honor on your house. And your windows, too, if I really like it.
Posts: 9754 | Registered: Jul 2002
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There once was a T_Smith at work Who needed a break from the jerk who worked down the hall T_Smith wished he would fall To amuse him while he did smirk.
Posts: 4953 | Registered: Jan 2004
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T Smith, T Smith, What a guy This I say, don't ask me why For my windows he shall bless He does windows. Mine's a mess.
T Smith, T Smith, What? A guy? This I ask, don't ask me why Just to see the finger fly Of his wife, her wife? oh my.
Posts: 11895 | Registered: Apr 2002
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And now I waken you from sweet repose, Your deep blue eyes are framed with morning sand. You say, “A sleeping bag instead of clothes.” Alas, my dear, my ring is no decoder band.
“Then please, my love, some lemonade,” You say, and up you sit, mouth open wide, And out you breathe, your breath a wicked blade. “Alas, my dear, of lemon drink I have but none, by this I do abide.
He scratches at his chest and then I say in jest, “You have a worm inside your nose.” The expectation is a glare; instead you checked. And as I laugh, you strike a stricken pose.
I tilt your brow, fall silent and bestow a kiss. You are my love, and teasing more would be amiss.
Posts: 14745 | Registered: Dec 1999
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