Что-то потянуло на поэзию...щас на душе так тоскливо...даже не знаю что делать...и завтрашний день не удался...планы на боулинг провалились...НУ почему так всегда...даже ничего придумать не могу, как бы себя отвлечь от всей этой скуки...
rain or hail
sam done
he best he kin
till they digged his hole
:sam was a man
stout as a bridge
rugged as a bear
slickern a weazel
how be you
(sun or snow)
gone into what
like all them kings
you read about
and on him sings
a whippoorwill;
heart was big
as the world aint square
with room for the devil
and his angels too
yes, sir
what may be better
or what may be worse
and what may be clover
clover clover
(nobody'll know)
sam was a man
grinned his grin
done his chores
laid him down.
Sleep well