

ClichesI cant compare thee anymore unto a summers day; Its already been done so much its become a cliché. Perhaps a branch of cherry blossoms glistening in the sun! But, then again, their time is short- they bloom and then theyre done. A beautiful haiku or two would be deftly concise, But to cover all the bases, an epic would be precise. Beowulf cant fit in a card, though. I doubt that itd do; The battles and testosterone dont remind me at all of you. What can I do? What can I write that will inform you truly Of how I feel? These poem forms doCliches
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Keep saying desu. Maybe, if you say it enough, you will turn Japanese!
"O unhappy people! Tomorrow comes the sorrow!" - Ira Hath
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plus, if something does go horribly, horribly wrong, I have a backup
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