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writeworks.net an online journal of student writing
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The
Lake By Otto The lake, is a beautiful blue. The water so cold and a cold summer day. On the top of a mountain see string Fly through the air, and a fish fly with it. Soon I smell fired fish and I hear my grandma Yelling dinner. I
say give me a minute and I look across the lake as see another family That looks the same.
I yell, I scream to say hello. My grandma says Sush up.
We’ll boat across Another day. Then I protest shore to shore We’ll soon compromise tomorrow. |