Email Poem

Your IP Address: 216.73.216.98

From Email:	Required Email Address Not Valid.
To Email:	Email Address Not Valid. Required
Subject	Required
Personal Note:
Poem Title:
Poem	NAthlesse the cruell boy not so content, would needs the fly pursue: And in his hand with heedlesse hardiment, him caught for to subdue. But when on it he hasty hand did lay, the Bee him stung therefore: Now out alasse (he cryde) and welaway, I wounded am full sore: The fly that I so much did scorne, hath hurt me with his little horne.
	Type the characters you see in the picture Required