At night I walked alone in the park,
Alone with my thoughts, alone in the dark.
I stumbled over a sleepin hobo,
Then heard the train whistle blow.
Spaghetti attacked my face,
throwing meatballs at my space.
With shoes made of gold,
I clicked my heels and tagged it bold</ b>.
How lovely are your drops of water,
those that drop unto the latter.
The prose of life delt me my cards,
And those I used, sold and made a profit on.
Dragon maestro steve read the similarion
Along with the collected works of Bob Barker,
Who's life was a great wrinkle,
he crawled from his coffin for every crinkle.
Theron out I stayed inside at night,
for fear stuff like this might be right!















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