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Yabba Dabba Doo
Critical thought escapes me.
Always insulated with your insults.
A dolt with bolts on their neck.
As the old hens come peck.
The vainity remains.
But the face is tarnished with age.
You love the sound of your own voice.
You don't even notice.
I don't care.
I Know Why You Write
2 tell us stories from your days - I enjoy the sideseat - the best view is from there ~Stella~
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