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Looking
See the stalking of the weed,
I think he's angry at the seed.
He finds it hard to see the shark,
Overshadowed by the small stark.
Who is that squealing near the bats?
I think she'd like to eat the dats.
She is but a lying teenager,
Admired as she sits upon a wager.
Her sarcastic car is just a cube,
It needs no gas, it runs on uterine tube.
She's not alone she brings a spouse,
a pet tiger loaded of lighthouse.
The tiger likes to chase a pond,
Especially one that's in the gironde.
The weed shudders at the scary eagle,
He want to leave but she wants the spiegel.
Copyright ©
jack sunderland
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