The Feather
Here's a short little poem I was forced to write in school:
A feather fell from a flock
of flying fish in fairy land.
The feather fell somewhere in Chicago
landing on the head of a poor man.
He was startled
and rose to his feet.
He looked around
for someone to beat.
Then, like magic,
a fortune was found,
He had never noticed,
just sitting on the ground.
The man was rich
and had a great life,
until a golddigger
became his wife.
1 comment:
Beautiful! Absolutely beautiful. Don't think I'm going to forget about your criminal behavior in the past, though.
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