There are songs which lament
The pain of being invisible
And count the casualties of unrequited love
So while I have the urge to pen those words
I'll refrain (or rather, not) and say:
While the moon is nice to look at
Mooning is less so;
I like the smell of other trees much better,
As I get a headache from the stink of pine
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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LOL love that twist, especially as it is so centered, and spins the reader in just the right place.
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