"Words...
Spinning round my head
Other thoughts have fled
Twirling round with ease
Like a light spring breeze
Words....
Shiny like brass
Coming out my ass..."
"This is supposed to be a children's poem," she rudely interrupts.
"I know."
Blank stare.
"I mean. No. I know. Yes it was just a test."
She isn't amused.
A heavy sigh, she signals again:
"Please, please try to focus..."
"This is not a very good children's poem," I smile.
"You're not funny."
Ouch.
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