Monthly Rhyme One
I want to place a bet,
I want to play a music set,
I want to cuddle my pet,
So that I can take it to the vet.
The butcher slaughtered the meat,
Under the sun’s high heat,
As he stood on his feet.
The farmer planted the crop,
The director designed the film’s prop,
For it to be ranked top.
After writing this poem, I will stop, shop till I drop.
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