Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Another writes to say not today. I afraid to say that I may bath in the last light before night. All the plight and righteous anties. It's not right believe when everything is written on your sleeve. The trees tremble but I'm not able. To bust it out like April. So I lie and fidget waiting' for your didget. Too late, no more, you must be a flibbertigibbet.
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