For Your Choice P Poetry Contest sponsored by Brian Strand
I stood upon the Great Chinese Wall and drank a pint of alcohol. 'Twas then I had a thought, and heaved a heavy sigh. A bird is happy in the sky when he spreads his wings to fly. He is so, is he not? I saw a bird who could not be caught, a little avian astronaut. 'Twas then I heard him call. The inspector said, "how did he die? It's simple. This wall is high, but I would ask the question why he took this foolish fall."
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