Republicus
"Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me. I lift my lamp beside the golden door." The Statue of Liberty (P.S. Please be so kind as to enter through the proper channels and in an orderly fashion)
2 Comments:
can you imagine having to lean over each night to say, "goodnight my little schweetie!" while trying to muster up a pucker to kiss either one of those goodnight?
I can imagine a lot of things, but such an indulgence would be a masochistic one.
Post a Comment
<< Home