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Dear FutureMe,
I hope that when you get this email, you will either have stopped writing poetry, or have started writing good poetry. For example:
In the murky water of the pond
The ducklings swim in silence
They swim
In small circles
Not by effort, will, nor decision
By fate, and fortune's hand
For these ducklings,
So small, so innocent,
Have all recently had at least one leg violently wrenched from its socket
In a horrific accident
This accident was strange
Bizarre
Gruesomely hilarious
It involved a tricycle,
Two beach balls,
And a dead goat.
Why had fortune
Dealt these ducklings
Such a cruel hand of life?
No-one knows.
In the murky water of the pond
The ducklings swim in silence
La Fin
This is crap.
---
When you get this, you will be fourteen. Presumably your complexion will still resemble the Painted Desert in Arizona, but... a man can dream.
Maybe you've finally decided who you like. Maybe it's Anita. Maybe it's Alex. Maybe it's Chelsea!
Or maybe it's someone I don't know yet.
Maybe you can actually tell them how you feel!
Maybe you can STOP FRIGGING SAYING MAYBE!
---
Read less, and do more work. Don't look at pr0n.
Change your name, damn it!
Oh yeah.
Get your dual citizenship: AU and US.
And finally. HAVE FUN
Kind regards,
~Luke
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