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Stuck

I seem to be stuck where I sit in my chair and when I try to move I get stuck in the air. Now that I’ve tried to push myself off, my hands want to stick like marshmallow fluff. I’m getting quite tired of fighting with this, but what ever it is, has quite a strong fist. I guess I fought better than it ‘cause when I looked down it oozed like spit. This foe of mine was a great fighter, but not good enough. (I move like a spider) I sprang from my seat, overjoyed to be free, and then I looked down, and what a scene! The chair had glue all over the place. in each little crack and each tiny space! I couldn’t believe I fell for that prank! How stupid I am to sit on that chair! I shook my head and laughed out loud, then I found out my hand was in my hair.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2006




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Date: 4/16/2016 2:11:00 AM
Sabreena Candreva. Nice to read your poem today. enjoyed ~LINDA~
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