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1…2…3… 1…2…3… Will you sing for me Sing me a song where The lyrics hold me tight Will you write for me Write me a poem that Makes fun of my dreams 1…2…3…
Cacophony Screeching and Despair Feet hitting pavement “Run to the left…. take this right
I wanted to write you into a love poem, But all I can conjure Is a picture of a girl crying off her mascara On a stoop in the south of Chicago,
Zero. The age when life is simple. Life in the moment, past and present, absent. Time is a concept yet to be discovered, Numbers possess no value. Smiles and laughter fill the days,
The number that inspires me
One can mean many, only to few.
one, two start the day new three, four 150 cals, no more five, six i dont need to be fixed seven, eight youre all too late nine, ten never wake again
I say One. You say Fun. I say Two. You say "Who?" I say Three. You say Me. I say Four. You ask for More. I say Five. You just Jive. I say Six. You make Clicks.
One, two, three, four, five, / A child's delight so simple, / Green and growing, she.