Thursday, April 06, 2006

The man who was shy, under the blue sky, was about to die

The girl, like a pearl, looked at him as an earl

He was dry, he did try and cry

There was no bar and she was too far

He said: Oh dear ! Come here, why not get near

She said: The condition's too harsh
And near you is a marsh
I wanna pass it
Would you for me grass it

The man wept and crept and crept

He was on the wet
As if pays a debt

The girl passed the way
The man passed away

The dove of the love was singing

     The love filled the man

               The love milled the man

                         The love killed the man
Posted by Behnam at 12:20:11 | Permanent Link | Comments (0) |
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