The Great Outdoors - Poem by Britni Hart
The great outdoors,
The fresh cold air,
The smell of wood burning,
The sheet joy of friends in company.
I love all these thing.
Looking up at the stars on a clear nigh
To hear an owl hooting at a great hight
All of these things are such a god sight.
Look all around you,
What can you see?
What are you doing when you
That's what you are doing.
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You