On the hill he looked left and right,
And yet not a soul was in sight. He walked back down the hill, The air was brisk with a winterchill. He walked through a patch of lilies, And he became very dizzy. He lost his balance, And fell downhill. His old bones cracked and splintered. At the bottom of the hill he lay still. As a crowd gathered round, The man watched the crowd. From the top of Clifford Hill. By: Andrew 7th grade Comments are closed.
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