Poem of Truth and All
Winds flow forth, in times of drought, and flow the birds…
Games are played, like “Power Grapes” and “Da-Snow Bird Stirs”…
Math will be the order of the day…
(Chain + boat - hat) = (cloud + clay)
Maybe we can make a better world…
With curtains, lakes, dips, and gravy swirl…
Maybe we, can maybe overcome…
The really things, we really fart on,
with our bum.
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