Story Turned Into Poetry

The warm sun of California just,

blows my mind away.

All these people I see,

They do not know me.

What I've done,

who O become,

ow California sun,

help me to find who I have become.

The beaches are fun,

surfing is one or the other.

Two or there people,

see the seagulls,

to be at peace with their inner self.

Then Orlando bloom,

crosses though a room,

one hundred screaming girls,

just want locks of his curls.

To bad for them his hair is straight,

and he had security locks at his front and back gates.

All the girls fishing for hope,

when he passes by and responses,"Nope."

They say there his girl,

and how he wants to take them for a whirl.

The girls start drowning in tears,

this can't be true,

they will be crying for years.

The time to stand up is now to stand up,

and show him who's really tough.

They will look back on this date and remember,

who they really hate.

Hate can stop us all the time,

but that makes us all as if we are all fine.

She Told Me to Write A Story,

Sorry,

Instead I Think She Got Poetry.