a poem for you to enjoy

Jul 09, 2005 03:57

We take walks
And hold hands
We trade things
And if he didn’t have a squirt-gun
And he wanted a squirt-gun
And I didn’t have a squirt-gun
I’d get one for him
And when I go away
He gives me a present
And ties it up special with ribbons
And it is to keep.
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