A man of words and not of deeds

A man of words and not of deeds
Is like a garden full of weeds,
And when the weeds begin to grow,
It's like a garden full of snow.
And when the snow begins to fall,
It's like a bird upon the wall,
And when the bird away does fly,
It's like an eagle in the sky.
And when the sky begins to roar,
It's like a lion at the door.
And when the door begins to crack,
It's like a stick across your back,
And when your back begins to smart,
It's like a penknife in your heart,
And when your heart begins to bleed,
You're dead, you're dead, you're dead indeed.

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Ida Stalder

Ida Stalder

19, Porsgrunn

Jeg har mange ting jeg liker eller mener noe om. Denne bloggen laget jeg sånn at jeg kan vise dere disse tingene.

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