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All the lines have been written There's been Sandburg,
It's sad but it's true Keats, Poe and McKuen
With all the words gone, They all had their day
What's a young poet to do? And knew what they're doin'
But of all the words written The bird is a strange one,
And all the lines read, So small and so tender
There's one I like most, Its breed still unknown,
And by a bird it was said! Not to mention its gender.
It reminds me of days of So
🍇 -- 🐊 -- 👹 -- 🥞 -- 🍆 -- 🐛 -- ⚡ -- 🏓 -- 🍆 -- 📒 -- 💎 -- 🚙 -- 🐠 -- 🥗 -- 🚘