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I am a pirate with a wooden leg.
The plane I see it fly into the sky.
My leg I must remark it is a peg.
A butterfly I see it flutter by.
I find that I am straight and quite ungay.
A model is made up with plastic parts.
Oh something something in the month of may.
I guess i will just rhyme line two with farts.
Today my computer got a virus.
My dad eats at a restaurateur named Lums.
My eye has a dilated iris.
It fails to see my fathers burger crumbs.
I realize this has nothing to say,
its easier to write a poem that way.