I set foot to the ground
On a spindle top
It seem to be round
An I can't, run, jump, skip, or hop
The trouble making minds
Scattered through junk
Jumping for so to catch me a ride
Letters to my self Just word on a page poems from the heart Words from my mind What to feel is the word in... More
I set foot to the ground
On a spindle top
It seem to be round
An I can't, run, jump, skip, or hop
The trouble making minds
Scattered through junk
Jumping for so to catch me a ride