Things I can't do
By Cally
I can't spell, What the hell. My grammars not great, Comprehensions late. Poetry unpublished, Novel not read. Talent is terminal Flare is dead, But my lines still rhyme, So it must be fine. And I can still get Work in on time, I might not be the next big thing Can't write, can't dance Not to mention sing. So I'll keep penning In my darkened room, And think of life With a litle less doom. Happy thought are more my style So what does it matter If it makes someone smile. :) Written February 23rd, 2002 © on Feb 23 2002 08:29 AM PST 0 • 12
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"I can't spell,..."