Poems about Animals
Perhaps, as a infant, we are all the same, Wriggling in linen as we are given a name,
Being me, I would say was the greatest thing, Despite these days when I'm pained, Back then I knew I could do anything,
As a cub, life was hard. Although he was the son of the Queen, the other cubs did not know
I am cruel to my dream. Neglecting her, Pushing her a side for the next day,
He had trouble hopping in the currents. His usual flexible fins seemed stubby in the water.
Ohio, many think of corn fields and the amish, I think of hurt and memories I desperatly want to forget.
I think it all began when he started to get silent more often My mama had always told me not to date
In this world of individuality Can there be sin? It is a great quest To find yourself within
I was born on June 24 and based on my horoscope I am cancer.
We not safe no more Nevermind the point that we the mother nation my people are getting killd