Number Eight Poem by Ronald Chapman
Number Eight
There once was a figure called eight.
Number nine, she did want to date.
She sat on a tree.
She thought it was three.
It was late.
Oh, what will become of her fate?
Have you ever waited for someone who was late?
Tuesday, August 5, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: funny love
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4/25/2024 11:08:26 AM # 1.0.0.1119
