1.01.2004 :::
A New Mistake
There was a man, once upon a time,
Inside a life of glass n' rock climbers.
He sold relief and gave away a tale,
To all of us aging five and dimers.
He'd say, "Son I hope you're learn
You can't just keep running round.
You'll find that fires indeed do burn,
That you just may die with no sound."
His name was Forgotten, so he said,
But his stories had a fable, or such,
Fifteen years it been since he be dead.
His name was Mistaken in the dutch.
But he meant so much to the old timers.
Because he's messed up longer before,
All the poets and depressed rhymers.
Feeding of the withered host for more.
::: posted by Matthew at 1:32 PM
