him....
i love him i hate him, its all the same. because in the end it was all just a game.
him....
A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.
Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.
Title | Comments | Submitted |
---|---|---|
Title | Comments | Submitted |
what too say. | 2 | 12/16/2008 |
puzzle | 1 | 12/16/2008 |
him.... | 1 | 12/16/2008 |
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