Wisps of iced-air, I inhaled frozen thorns,
Icicles like sharpened spears, warfare's horn
Crinkled noses, angel poses, snowballs
thrown like rockets aimed, another boy maimed
To the victors go the spoils, hot chocolate
Later games with referees making calls,
Unlike our previous war, much more tame
I hawked it, as I thought it, my thought lit,
Bedtime now, enough play for this day's morn
Be careful, though my friends, you have been warned.
I'm sorry I posted this, my style is way too sad ;) The style is aa, bcd bcd, aa (slants), 10 syllable lines, and some other hidden secrets :)
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
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