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a poem for an old friend (old)
A poem for an old friend.
my best friends name is scott david mclain.
His birthday is october 7th.
He has blonde hair and turquoise blue eyes.
He always says he is going to buy me stuff.
I always say no.
He is pretty serious sometimes...
Most of the time hes an idiot like me.
'When im around him, he tickles the crap out of me.
We often talk about blue llamas or penguins.
I've talked to him for 5 hours on the phone.
We hold the record of 7 hours on the computer chatting.
His friends are ok...
I hope he dont turn into a douchebag like two of them.
No names...
you can figure it out...
His favorite person is me.
He says we'll go be surfer hippies with eckl...
but now him and eckl arent friends..
so i dont know where we're gonna live!
I have his lucky hat.
He hit a grand slam in that thing.
I love everything about him...
except when he insists on beating me...
which he never has...
I dont think he can?
Well...
Sometimes i have to let him feel good about himself...
So i let him pretend that he wins...
If i could give him three things...
I would give him...
So much happiness he cant hold it all....
all of the love in the world...
and of course...
a blue penguin.
