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SPILLED INK
 
WRITING A POEM ABOUT SOMETHING
SPECIAL, A VERY SPECIAL FRIEND
I MIGHT ADD. A LONG TIME AGO THEY
HAD NO BALL POINT PENS, IT WAS
A PEN AND A BOTTLE OF INK.

WHEN THE INK HAS SPILLED TO
THE FLOOR. POOR JOHN DOESN'T GET
HIS LETTER AT ALL, UNTIL YOU RIDE
TO THE STORE.

THIS MAY TAKE HOURS BEFORE YOU
CAN GO, BECAUSE IT IS FIVE MILES
AT LEAST TO RIDE A HORSE.

IT DEPENDS ON OLD JOE HOW FAST
HE CAN GO. WELL THEN YOU CAN
FINISH THE NOTE.

SIMPLICITY SFITB FOR MYRNA

Author Clara Case ( Deen )

By deeny107

© 2018 deeny107 (All rights reserved)

 

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This Poem is part of a Challenge: Simplicity - SFITB with Myrna (kajuncutie/Myrna D.) read page for rules, info, and REQUIRED PHRASE (challenge has been closed)


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