Justin Reamer Poems

Let's celebrate your birthday today,
My dear friend,
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Wrapping paper is strange,
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It is harder for a rich man
To get into heaven
Than for a camel to pass
Through the eye of a needle.
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Guy with lots of pitches,
He sings wonderfully.
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Poor folks who stand in the theatre,
They don't have much to watch,
Nothing to be catered to,
For I feel bad for them so.
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The body lays there,
Lying dead in the waves,
And it splashes and throes,
Knowing no bounds,
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Моя любовь, есть много вещей в этом мире
Что я могу сказать и сделать для вас,
Но есть одна вещь, которая выражает все это,
Самая большая вещь в мире,
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What a cute thing!
He's only a tomcat,
And loot how he mews at us
And stares at us with those woggling eyes.
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It's the most unpresuming thing,
Your affair with her, my dear Ron,
For no one will know,
As long as you make it inconspicuous.
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The huge fortress stands on the mountains,
A nest for the king to reside,
For he has conquered many lands,
Bravely seizing them to his liking,
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