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Random First Lines:This is part of a book I'm going to write. Its a love story. Im opening by telling about the events that were going on in the lives of each... » Read
Writing my memories of my history, another tale comes to play.
About spaghetti growing on trees, And the time I rued the day.
Poetry | Updated Jun 1, 2010 | Reads: 0 | Comments: 0 | Likes: 1
A little boy fell in love with a little girl before she moved away. Years later she's back, but is the love still there? Or is it left on the playground all those years before? Between high school, parents, and the snobby populars, how can they ever reunite? That not so little girl has a plan...