by Ross Cavins | Jul 9, 2007 | Bad Poetry
Growing up with my sis, we fought and fought. Much more than we should’ve, much more than we ought. Competition between us was always so fierce, So on we would fight for years and years. I was much older but none did it matter, When it came to my sis, it just... by Ross Cavins | Jul 9, 2007 | Bad Poetry
I look forward to the chicken noodle soup, The bedtime stories causing eyes to droop. Their laughter will fill the house with such joy, I want one of each, a girl and a boy. I look forward to their little baby talk, The crawling, the giggling, the eating of chalk. The...