Thursday, October 22, 2009

Killing chickens with a stick.
I mean their eggs I'm not that sick.

You cannot spray those bees.
Their too high in the trees.
So why did you spray me?

Christmas Christmas on my shoes.
I believe in Santa, why don't you?

Playin hockey its ice cold.
Put the puck in five hole.
Tossed my cookies for the goal.

When she ignites it feels so right.
Velouria my truck is such eh delight.

Chevelle she is my guitar.
And we rock it very hard.

Water boarding, jumpin the wake.
MJ grab out on the lake.

Water skiing with the moon.
Drink it down with Mountain Dew.

Everything is as good.
As I knew it would.

1 comment:

  1. Your poem has a nice rhythm to it, and has some funny moments throughout ("Killing chickens with a stick" and the whole "Bees" thing). Good job!

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