Monday, October 26, 2009

Counting Crows




One for sadness,

two for mirth;

Three for marriage,

four for birth;

Five for laughing,

six for crying:

Seven for sickness,

eight for dying;

Nine for silver,

ten for gold;

Eleven a secret that will never be told.

2 comments:

  1. I like it very much....

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  2. Neat poem. I love crows - which is a strange thing for me to say because I've always hated them...hmmm..trying to tell me something, I think.

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