whatis2plus2:

child-of-dolora:

patrickat:

child-of-dolora:

patrickat:

child-of-dolora:

patrickat:

child-of-dolora:

patrickat:

child-of-dolora:

patrickat:

Anyone want to write the poem that begins:

My name’s Valjean…

And ends with:

I steal the bred.

?

My name’s Valjean;

I know this nite

(though candlestix

are gleeming brite)

my sister’s childe

might soon be ded.

I cannot wait –

I steal the bred.

My name’s Javert
I gard the law.
You rob’d a house
That’s wat I saw.
Fiv years wer owed
Until you fled
Nineteen all told –
You stole the bred!

He was my guessed
At Bishop’s haus
And early left
(silent as maus)
But slipped his mind
on leaving quik;
forgot the best –
so take these stix!

My name’s Fantine
The nite is cold
To save my childe
Myself I’ve sold
All of ten francs
Is wat they sed
What can I do? –
I shav my hed.

I am Valjean
And none shall herm
Yur yung Cosette:
I keep her warm.
So sleep, Fantine
And she’ll be ther
when yu awake.
Here comes Javert!

Our nam, monsieur?
Thenardier!
For our gud dede
What will you pay?
5000 francs –
You get the gist –
And dear Colette
(:: elbows :: Cosette)
Will not be mist

Oh come now, you can’t skip my favorite song.

Wen yung I’d dreme
I’d meet a prinz
(but have you seen
wuttz happend sinze?)
He ain’t Voltaire;
this shitty louse
is master now
of publik howse.

I am Javert
My way’s the Lord
For thos who fall
The flam, the sord!
Let me see him
Saf behind bars.
There’s no escap –
I swer by stars.

The peepul sing
like angry men;
they will not be
those slayves agin.
there beeting hearts
like noisy drums –
there life restarts.
tomorrow comes!

Dont you fret
I feel no Payne
And won’t be hert
By falling rayne.

Pleese don’t die
Deer God above
I heel your wounds
With wourds of lov.

You keep me safe
That’s wat you sed
But looke monsieur –
‘Ponine is ded.