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Dandelions
Heads of yellow lion's teeth
Are crouching on the lawn
Their color summons children
Will the children pluch the heads away
For necklaces or bitter tea?
Or will their father's pushmower chop off the heads
And make him think that the beast is killed?
But this is just a pipe dream
For the beast shall never die
For ten grow in the place
Of every head you chop away
