a study toward sonnet #951 by FisherKingKQJ
Boys say that love is no more than a grope,
But I can tell you the stamps I stomp are real,
A meeting of minds beating out thin hope,
Good times and bad equally spreading seal.
I love my friend, I can't help what I feel,
She's pretty bold, popular, at times a swot,
I open doors for her, mind her take out meal,
Lug her schoolbooks, tie her strands in a knot.
I chat up boys for her, should they look hot,
I answer her cellphone, her essays write,
I manage her diary, her deference slot,
On her bad hair days, I tuck mine from sight.
That day her charm rubs off on poor old me,
I'll be wise gold foiled Buddha for the fee.
(Chorus)
o $10,000,000 fee
o $10,000,000 commission
o $10,000,000 slice
[Autocube3 - for 3d interactive movies.]
SPADES DIAMONDS CLUBS HEARTS