feauting zoya zaidi, she wrote the first 21 or so.
The Girl on the Hill:
there was this young girl, once,
who lived on top of the hill,
And she used to come down town,
Every morning she did this drill.
Now there was a young man Bob,
Who lived at the bottom of the hill,
And every morning he saw her coming
down, his heart would give a thrill.
She was like an Angel to him,
With invisible wings of quill...
And he would stand every day
On the path that led to the mill,
And wait the fair maiden to descend
And hisa heart would burn on a grill.
Till this girl made an appearance,
And his heart would dance athrill...
But one day, as it so happened
The girl did not appear; his eyes began to fill
With tears of consternation, as if someone
Was shearing his heart with a sawmill:
Sotayo Aro Hakeem:
His heart began to beat more than a tom tom
It was as if he was jack and he and he had lost his jill
As he waited, his faithfull tears dropped till the end of morn
There is no way he wouldn't retire to take his pill
His steps backwards was ten minitues separate he looked like a gorgon
For him to go back was not his will
As his pill entered his throat he heard a clarion
He ran more than twenty Gatlins, he saw nil
Only a Old Norse singing amazing grace. Anon
He sank to the earth drunk with his own tears till
The sun dries it. He slept on the lawn
Young, beautiful, poor Lydia was ill
Even her vomit rejected by the street dogs.None.
Her daily drill was today not her skill
Her surrogate Aunt was worse the Don John
The vallian. Though still sick she laid on a sill
In the sun helpless. Pushed out by Miss Clon
The Vallian Then she remembered still
When she goes down town to grind millets and corn,
The young man at the bottom of the hill
Who to hin she was lovelorn
Like an Utopian Archangel he stood still
Every morn waiting for me to pass on.
As she thought of this her body, in the veri chill
weather vibrated more. She was forlorn
Again she threw up, smelling like a three day spoilt fish gill
It was what she had two days on
Down there she laid lifeless only the bulbous squill
She smelt gave her live. Her face now turn
Red and feeble. Save her only is the man down hill
Poetry by kid
Read 569 times
Written on 2006-07-01 at 16:01
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The girl on the hill
Zoya Zaidi:The Girl on the Hill:
there was this young girl, once,
who lived on top of the hill,
And she used to come down town,
Every morning she did this drill.
Now there was a young man Bob,
Who lived at the bottom of the hill,
And every morning he saw her coming
down, his heart would give a thrill.
She was like an Angel to him,
With invisible wings of quill...
And he would stand every day
On the path that led to the mill,
And wait the fair maiden to descend
And hisa heart would burn on a grill.
Till this girl made an appearance,
And his heart would dance athrill...
But one day, as it so happened
The girl did not appear; his eyes began to fill
With tears of consternation, as if someone
Was shearing his heart with a sawmill:
Sotayo Aro Hakeem:
His heart began to beat more than a tom tom
It was as if he was jack and he and he had lost his jill
As he waited, his faithfull tears dropped till the end of morn
There is no way he wouldn't retire to take his pill
His steps backwards was ten minitues separate he looked like a gorgon
For him to go back was not his will
As his pill entered his throat he heard a clarion
He ran more than twenty Gatlins, he saw nil
Only a Old Norse singing amazing grace. Anon
He sank to the earth drunk with his own tears till
The sun dries it. He slept on the lawn
Young, beautiful, poor Lydia was ill
Even her vomit rejected by the street dogs.None.
Her daily drill was today not her skill
Her surrogate Aunt was worse the Don John
The vallian. Though still sick she laid on a sill
In the sun helpless. Pushed out by Miss Clon
The Vallian Then she remembered still
When she goes down town to grind millets and corn,
The young man at the bottom of the hill
Who to hin she was lovelorn
Like an Utopian Archangel he stood still
Every morn waiting for me to pass on.
As she thought of this her body, in the veri chill
weather vibrated more. She was forlorn
Again she threw up, smelling like a three day spoilt fish gill
It was what she had two days on
Down there she laid lifeless only the bulbous squill
She smelt gave her live. Her face now turn
Red and feeble. Save her only is the man down hill
Poetry by kid
Read 569 times
Written on 2006-07-01 at 16:01
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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