The Pencil Case
The eraser erased my bad habits
While the pencil drew in new ones
The glue stick glued on a whole new face
As the scissors cut away my background and past
The eraser erased my bad habits
While the pencil drew in new ones
The glue stick glued on a whole new face
As the scissors cut away my background and past
Dear Beatrice, the friendship you have with the person who inspired you to write this poem should really be treasured because this poem is one of a kind for me. You know what? It really...
in Sickness Poems
He grows everyday
And thinks 'never die'
Life he will live his way
Hush-a-by baby, don't cry...
This poem makes me sit here and just bawl because my baby brother is very sick. I know on my heart that I am going to out live him. It kills me to admit that but it is true. But this little...