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Click here Boys
made of mischief
and laughter
secrets and dirt,
members of the
He-Man-Woman-Haters-Club
until
the proper combination
of soft curls
perfume
and
puberty
render his membership
VOID
forever more.
- COMMENTS
The mother in me melts every time I read this poem. The woman in me just smiles.
I like the revelation of a tomboy at the end. Very nice, thank you.
Is not weaker than your prowess as a story teller. Is that the grand dad in you?