Sunday 3 February 2008 photo 1/1
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My rhyme ain't good just yet, My brain and tongue just met, And they ain't friends, so far, My words don't travel far, They tangle in my hair, And tend to go nowhere, They grow right back inside, Right past my brain and eyes Into my stomach juice Where they don't serve much use, No healthy calories, Nutrition values. And I absorb back in The words right through my skin They sit there festering inside my bowels The consonants and vowels The consequence of sounds
Annons