September 07, 2010 at 05:38 pm
Poem, G (All)
Romance | Romance | Love
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I pick my locks with true grace, and style to see a hidden key.
I rattle the chains hard and tight, but I tried with all my might.
But luckily I found a key in the grass, and then I pick up the key.
Then I found a scared journal, with a lock on it but I paused for a moment.
To see a perfectly good journal, lay flat on the shade of the grass.
I read the journal for a while; it had no writing in it so I give it to a close friend to me.
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