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Gavin

In his dark lair
Under his stairs
In his chair
While he would stare
At his shortened hair

For he would cry
To the sky

Over the river
Through the woods
Went he, to his dog’s grave

Inside him went a warm glow
Of kindness
Of niceness
Within him after it melted the snow

Well, that is my poem. I hope that all words in it are a preposition. It is titled Gavin for that person sits by me in class. For those of you who know Gavin personally, this should be hilarious. To those of you who do not know Gavin, this should be very confusing.

Article posted February 16, 2012 at 05:53 PM • comment (2) • Reads 74 • see all articles

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