JAMES AND TE GIAN PAECH

Banananana

It was raining and the remains lay sniffing the sadness of the food music player and crying as she did before.
Peach wasn't one to laugh over everything, after all.
The rain matched their faces at the funeral-wet and sad.
They missed the grape who sengned and the grape who danced and.
And.

The love that they had for the sog mixed together to make confusion portal. A puddle of emotion in the middle of the round table where the Knights stood or rather sat together at, holding fruity hands and senging fruity musicals about wet and.
And.

Where to go with the seng? Will he take all our musicals and leave with an emotional puddle and no goodbye? The Peche was green for grape, and they saw that. But to move so soggy? Pash and the musical fruit foods would never understand.
I'm sorry that all of the poem is sadness.