I am not calling this book the end. So please figure out some poems. This poem here is about best friends.
Two cuts on you, is ten on me.
An fragile piece of paper is an broken wing to you and it's a broken song to me.
A small bird
To me
Will be
A flock to you
A clock that ticks and toke
To you is a rock to me
The Rock is an Boulder to you and
The rock is a pebble to me.
The car is an monster to you
But an savior to me.
It might be that he's gone and it gave
You a fright but
Remember that
The lake a
Out back will
Not sparkle till
You come
That the horses coat
Will dull until you arrive and
That a bird feather will become too heavy until
You pick it up
A dogs tail will not wag until
You come home and
That I will not be happy till you come and stay
Because, two cuts on you, is ten on me and it's hurting me more than you think. Just count
The cuts
One on you is nine on me
Two on you is ten on me
And three on you
Is eleven on me
So be happy and not so snappy
Because two cuts on you is ten on me.
The horses coat will dull until you arrive and the dogs tail will not wag and until you come and one more thing.
Two cuts on you, is ten more on me.
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This poem reminds me of my best friend Sarah. Sarah shut me out until I wrote this poem and mailed it to her. Just be happy because
Two cuts on you is ten more on me and
A small bird to me is
A flock to you.
-Raylen
