Storybook Ending

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55 words
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Our day was headed toward its evening,
and I thought I had discerned your meaning,
so I told you how you'd still make me yearn
at twenty-four, thirty, and forty;

But when my hands began to pry,
you gave me the 'dirty orb', or 'eye',
like I was one of Dickens' poor,
and you, Marley

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3 Comments
buttersbuttersalmost 13 years ago
this raised

the ghost of a smile :)

twelveoonetwelveoonealmost 13 years ago
Maybe it's time

A five

Maybe it's time

to write something a little longer

Maybe it's time...

to go add to the thread I started

or just maybe it's time..

theognistheognisalmost 13 years ago
*****

Brought a smile.

Five.

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