Monday, June 25, 2012

To Jenny:

It's 11:00pm. Not officially your birthday yet, but I wanted to get a head start. So I wrote you a poem. It's not just any poem though... It's one of those that is really meaningful but doesn't rhyme at all. Here it goes.

You're getting so old.

You're about to be able to drive.

I guess I'll let you drive my car.

I'm scared though.

Real scared.

Happy Birthday.

I remember when you were a baby.

Now you're not a baby.

The end. Love you Jenny!

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