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Poetry Minus The Sense
My imagination rhymes! Sometimes. (That one was unintentional. Honest.)
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
A limerick, for a change.
Oh, Pickle, you smell kind of funny.
Like licorice wrapped up in money.
I would take a bite,
But I fear that I might
Be turned into a polkadot bunny.
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Seth
If Skittles were a health food, I would eat little else.
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A limerick, for a change.
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