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Poor John
There once was a boy who lived high up on a hill
John lived life all alone, his house he couldn't fill
His parents worked hard starting at five and even sometimes till
Every day John rode his shiny schwinn bike down into town and was known for his skill
Our good friend John was a very lonely fellow
He was not too bad looking, and was actually pretty mellow
but when women came around he shook just like jello
his fear was so great, himself he would hate, he couldn't bring himself to say hello
Fridays were torture, a wait for the weekend and pay
John was riding along, smiling, just making his way
A glimmer caught his eye, was it a big ring from Kay?
He looked up to see a girl so beautiful, so breathtaking, “This is a dream during the day”
He promptly fell off his bike as sad as it is to say
and she promptly stepped over his schwinn continuing on her way
John rode home with tears streaming down his face
His mother had told him that love was an emotion and not silly a race
but wouldn't it be nice to be loved for even one day, just to get a taste
He knew deep down that he was a human and not a waste
but at night he tossed and turned hoping maybe someday, in another’s heart he would find a place
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