A Real Poem
We dance
we prance
we're stricken with cancer
we wish we were a silver knight lancer.
We eat pies
we wear ties;
the girls are shy
there is a big blue sky.
We dig up the soil
to get to the oil,
but they don't see me
having tea,
watching the sea.
Watch love fly
like it were a dove
flap it's wings to solitude
no need for any attitude.
Dance with the Arab girl
give her a step and than a twirl,
as our lips fuse together
we some what don't care about the weather.
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