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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Other · #1217540
For a fellow poet who I admire
I know this girls with strawberry hair.
I like her deeply, but does she care.
Her lips are honey, her eyes the sky.
I may be celephaine, but I'll still try.
Her kiss is the moon, one day I'll fly.
I'll soar higher than high, pass the stars by and by.
But if the comes to pass, one day,
I'm going to have to say,
BYE BYE.
See my plan, is to leave here and go to a strange land.
Where the city is small, but the picture is grand.
A place called Lala Land.
L.A. L.A. is the cry
Where smog fills tha air and young brothers die.
A place where the rich are rich and the poor are poor.
Where Paris Hilton sniffs coke, because her life is a bore.
A place where one seldom hears a church bell,
And every temptation is a fine as hell.
But in this land which is so fair,
Nothing can ever compare,
To the girl with the Strawberry hair.
© Copyright 2007 McLennin (crycrimson at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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