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Friday, December 24, 2004


   I Can Be A Good Boy Too
You look outside
nearly going blind
by the blanket of white
on the ground.

The white is unpenitterable.
The light is unbarible.
You use your hand as a sheild.

Your imagination takes flight,
the white,
the light.

You put on your clothes
as if it's all going to go
and trip half way out the door.

The soft fluffy snow
causes your cheeks to grow
a light red glow.

You ignore the ice
this felling is too nice
and you flop right down
on your back.

The sun begins to set
"Not yet, Not yet"
you wish the sun would just stop.

You go inside
wishing to ride
your sled, just one more time.

You strip off your clothes
your mother knows
you are numb from head to toes.

She sends you to bed
and as you lay down your head
you know it will all be there
the next day.

Maybe the next day
you would repeat this day
but enjoy it even more,
but enjoy it even more.

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