Mary to Elizabeth
All children are gifts, miracles,
and mine shall betray no common flaw.
Angels are more rare than prayers,
more common than new moons.
Respectable even in barreness
you know not what you deride,
speaking blasphemy of pride.
and mine shall betray no common flaw.
Angels are more rare than prayers,
more common than new moons.
Respectable even in barreness
you know not what you deride,
speaking blasphemy of pride.
3 Comments:
whatever happened to the poems i used to know....my favorite poems are actually by Andrew Dice Clay...
Little Boy Blew...cause he needed the money
or Jack and Jill went up the hill each with a buck and a quarter
Jill came down with two fifty
Whoa what a whore....hehehehe
Small minds, ya know!
lmao.....
Limericks are good too...
May I point out you are not very helpful. For once I ask you to be critical of me and I get cutsey politeness!
*lets loose with a Charlie Brown ARRRRRGGGHHHH!*
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