
I always liked winter better.
Rated: Fiction K - English - Angst/Poetry - Words: 42 - Reviews: 1 - Published: 10-07-11 - id: 2958958
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Alone in a yellow-brick house the chickens crow;
It's morning for the first time and I might be seeing snow.
Tearing it from top to bottom and showing little mercy,
Allergies and the sun finally take down my Christmas tree.
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