Tuesday, February 12, 2008

A poem made of Cliches

Choose a cliche and make that the first line of your poem:

Love is blind.
Love is crazy.
Love is wild.
Love is great.
Love hurts.
Love aches.
Love,love,love.
Does anyone really know Love?
I met him once, it was blind.
I met him once, it was crazy,
it was wild, it was great.
But after some time, Love was mean.
He hurt me and the pain ached.
Love is a lie from beginning to end.

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