He Rather Sits Onto The Haystack

It isn't a too itchiest and itchier feeling, my uncle was the wealthiest farmer, he'd love to wear something warm and nice, overalls and western t-shirt, some hat made of pinewood straws, insightfulness shoes, totally eastern like, his living room filled with haystacks entire lot, a little bit on the couch potato Sidious to sit and lay, watching a show called The Beverly Hillbillies nonstop, he loved to drink his Bud light beer, and his ordinary snacks on the side, he laugh so hard constantly, he saw the picture of his wife, he kisses the frame once, he thinks of her every day long, he smashes his beer cans on his forehead, the notebook he likes to writeable words on the certain line himself alone, to catch some little backbone adventure

Written by
Michael James Brindley
3-29-20