My Poem
I am sick
ick
kill me with an ice pick
I am ill
still
staring out my windowsill
I am yucky
sucky
all you healthy folks are lucky
I am pale
frail
what a woeful tale.
i am gross
i like...toast...
I am afraid of ghosts...
Okay, so the last one didnt really pan out there. whatever.
3 Comments:
At November 01, 2004 8:53 PM, barbara_mary said…
*gasp* So sick that you've resorted to RHYME!!!
Feel better, yo.
At November 02, 2004 6:07 PM, Megan said…
Brianna, your poetry skills amaze me, it brings tears to my eyes *sniff* It's just so...beautiful!
At December 31, 2004 12:08 AM, Corita said…
Excuse me miss, but could I have your name, number, social insurance number, adress, cell numer, credit card number and expiration date? Dont worry, this is not a scam or fraud, but It is my pleasure to inform you that you have won the second annual blogspot poetry contest, and need I to know where to send the prize. By the way.. I hope you have suitable accomadations for it, we couldnt afford a sty as well.
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