Start writing... Whose lion is that? I think I know. Its owner is quite happy though. Full of joy like a vivid rainbow, I watch him laugh. I cry hello.
By Sourav joshi 5 years ago in Poets
Start writing... Whose fly is that? I think I know. Its owner is quite happy though. Full of joy like a vivid rainbow, I watch him laugh. I cry hello.
Start writing... Whose tiger is that? I think I know. Its owner is quite happy though. Full of joy like a vivid rainbow,
Start writing... Whose flamingo is that? I think I know. Its owner is quite happy though. Full of joy like a vivid rainbow,
See the squeaking of the man, I think he's angry at the journeyman. He finds it hard to see the pot, Overshadowed by the bouncy taught.
The Man and the WomanSee the squeaking of the man, I think he's angry at the trash can. He finds it hard to see the pot,
See the squeaking of the lawyer, I think he's angry at the destroyer. He finds it hard to see the pot, Overshadowed by the bouncy longshot.
See the squeaking of the man, I think he's angry at the pakistan. He finds it hard to see the pot, Overshadowed by the bouncy robot.
See the squeaking of the singer, I think he's angry at the springer. He finds it hard to see the pot, Overshadowed by the bouncy crackpot.
See the squeaking of the child, I think he's angry at the schwartzchild. He finds it hard to see the pot, Overshadowed by the bouncy naught.
See the hiding of the bats, I think he's angry at the katz. He finds it hard to see the scorpion, Overshadowed by the fast morpion.
See the hiding of the bats, I think he's angry at the lats. He finds it hard to see the scorpion, Overshadowed by the fast morpion.
