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The Phoenix

The Phoenix flew,
His wings as sharp as knives,
His head down low.

The Phoenix charged,
His eyes as red as fire,
His life beginning to grow.

The Phoenix swooped,
His teeth ready to bite,
His life was beginning to drawn his life to an end.

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Comments


  • DawnKestrel
    April 21, 2008
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    Cool!
    I love allof your poems so far! Keep up the good work!!!!!
    ^_^