No More Yoyo, We'Re Goin' Solo
Our laughter is no longer
Harassed under the strict metered
Of syllabic counts
At a distance
You neither hear a sound
Nor a word
Yet whenever there is
A pandemonium,
Be aware, you’re not in a flea market
But...in the mirthful grin
Of their malicious lips,
Thank goodness, we’re now on our own!
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