Lock
I wrote a scrap of non-rhyming poetry and put it under personal entries. Lately, the thought of letting people see that sort of stuff makes me embarrassed. It reeks of amateur poetry, tears over broken hearts and dead rhymes. Sky-my-cry-fly, love-dove.
I received my first check ever a few days ago. A day or so later, I received my second check ever. It feels like being given a hollow chocolate bunny. You're deluding yourself with thoughts of money, but reality shows that you only hold a *promise* of it. It's a sheet of paper you dare not bend. There's only so much of the chocolate that you can taste, and you better not hope it's solid goodness.
I received my first check ever a few days ago. A day or so later, I received my second check ever. It feels like being given a hollow chocolate bunny. You're deluding yourself with thoughts of money, but reality shows that you only hold a *promise* of it. It's a sheet of paper you dare not bend. There's only so much of the chocolate that you can taste, and you better not hope it's solid goodness.