That Brown Haired Girl
After school on a winter day
The air short of cold, but crisp
He remembered her angelic voice
With a slight and cute little lisp
Distracted, while peddling his bike
Leaving most thoughts of school behind
There she was, that brown haired girl
That was so much on his mind
He stopped and asked what she said
She said, "I thed, won't you thstop!"
He asked if she would like to ride
And up on his bike she did hop!
When she said, "You're passionate!"
He could have floated through the air
Then she said, "You're passion my house,"
"It wathe that white one back there!"
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