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My monosyllable Poem, thingyIn the last few weeks of spring, on a day where the birds did sing, an old man could be seen, on his back down by the stream.My monosyllable Poem, thingy
With a pole by his hands, his feet in the sand, he waits for a catch to tug his string and ring the bell to call him from his dream. As if dead, he moves not an inch, as his mind is left to dwell on a time long past; of the days in his youth, when he could run, yell and sing. The thought brings a smile to the his old, lined face as if he could feel the wind in his hair as he runs down a hill. Then he hears the toll of a bell, as if far off. Brass hits brass, what could it sign? He runs to
by ~The-SilverGolem
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Traitor? On what grounds do you base these claims? I didn't do it, it was George. D:
And you made me drop my candy...
So yeah, hi everyone. >.>
--
Bob is everywhere... 8D
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