Sunday, March 30, 2008

Mr. Fred's Epigram Corner

I'm branching out:

“I lost my swing,”
The Pro told me,
“One day it wasn’t there.”
Looked good to me,
Thought to myself,
As balls flew through the air.

“I’ve lost my line.”
My uncle said,
An artist, took his life.
Not careful, he,
Blood everywhere,
A present for his wife.

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