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Array ( [sid] => 103032 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Scooter [time] => 2005-08-08 21:36:54 [hometext] => Really stupid poem about really hot camp counselor nicknamed Scooter [bodytext] => I look at your shoulder blades,

The flag on your shirt

The curl of your hair,

The edge of your hat.



Sitting behind you

I knew not such joy

My hand hits your back,

As I stand, but you don’t look.



It’s a really light night

As I follow to the flag,

Yards behind you,

I sprint to catch up



With my sister right by you

I go stand by her

And next to you

Waiting to hold hands



My sister and I,

We discuss a song

You say it’s a good one,

I think I might die



Then you hold out your hand,

I take it in mine

They lower the flag,

And we say goodnight



Standing by you

As you talk with your friend,

Then my cabin is called

I have to go now.



Wearing the shirt

I think that you want,

I go off to bed, smiling

Wont let my hand hit anything but my sleeve



The sleeve that was on yours,

The arm that touched yours.

I swear I will never

Get my hand wet again.



You don’t know I like you,

Cause I’m not good enough

Not good enough for you,

I’ll not let you know.



You who can walk

In waist deep water

With a million kids tackling you,

Hanging on your feet, and never fall



You who can bench-press

The kids in your cabin,

Out run us in games,

And catch grapes in your mouth



You who I fell chasing,

When I said I was okay,

But really I wasn’t.

Cause you were too far away



You who stars

On my disposable camera

Whose foot I even

Took a picture of



You with the perfect toes,

Perfect arms,

Perfect abs,

Perfect knees



You three year older,

A million miles away,

Who doesn’t know I exist,

Except for my shirt



I should have said

That I didn’t want it,

Then you would have

A reason to remember me.



But I didn’t, you don’t,

You’re a counselor.

Me, a camper.

Maybe in three years,



You’ll know me,

When I’m too a counselor

Like me, or be my friend.

Until then, I’ll miss u Scooter [comments] => 2 [counter] => 188 [topic] => 43 [informant] => scottshott [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )
Scooter

Contributed by scottshott on Monday, 8th August 2005 @ 09:36:54 PM in AEST
Topic: oops



I look at your shoulder blades,

The flag on your shirt

The curl of your hair,

The edge of your hat.



Sitting behind you

I knew not such joy

My hand hits your back,

As I stand, but you don’t look.



It’s a really light night

As I follow to the flag,

Yards behind you,

I sprint to catch up



With my sister right by you

I go stand by her

And next to you

Waiting to hold hands



My sister and I,

We discuss a song

You say it’s a good one,

I think I might die



Then you hold out your hand,

I take it in mine

They lower the flag,

And we say goodnight



Standing by you

As you talk with your friend,

Then my cabin is called

I have to go now.



Wearing the shirt

I think that you want,

I go off to bed, smiling

Wont let my hand hit anything but my sleeve



The sleeve that was on yours,

The arm that touched yours.

I swear I will never

Get my hand wet again.



You don’t know I like you,

Cause I’m not good enough

Not good enough for you,

I’ll not let you know.



You who can walk

In waist deep water

With a million kids tackling you,

Hanging on your feet, and never fall



You who can bench-press

The kids in your cabin,

Out run us in games,

And catch grapes in your mouth



You who I fell chasing,

When I said I was okay,

But really I wasn’t.

Cause you were too far away



You who stars

On my disposable camera

Whose foot I even

Took a picture of



You with the perfect toes,

Perfect arms,

Perfect abs,

Perfect knees



You three year older,

A million miles away,

Who doesn’t know I exist,

Except for my shirt



I should have said

That I didn’t want it,

Then you would have

A reason to remember me.



But I didn’t, you don’t,

You’re a counselor.

Me, a camper.

Maybe in three years,



You’ll know me,

When I’m too a counselor

Like me, or be my friend.

Until then, I’ll miss u Scooter




Copyright © scottshott ... [ 2005-08-08 21:36:54]
(Date/Time posted on site)





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Re: Scooter (User Rating: 1 )
by emystar on Monday, 8th August 2005 @ 10:32:55 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
U captured your subject well. this is a very enjoyable read.
huggs,
emy
A masterpeice of feelings captured 4 ever.


Re: Scooter (User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on Tuesday, 9th August 2005 @ 12:59:24 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
Huh a very stupid poem? Not at all, I believe you grabbed at every detail, very good.




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