*Federal warning thise poem dose not contain mutch sense*
Thise poem i write,
without thinking first.
Its not depending
on my thirst.
I write a poem.
Yes, i do.
Im writing a poem
How are you?
A paper here,
An apple there,
what is eighteen,
in square?
Latin, German,
Dutch and French.
It does depend,
on how you dance.
No matter
Moo cow MOO.
Thise poem,
isent made by you.
Icewinds, Hailstorms.
Flakes of snow.
Frogs named Albert
Cats named go.
Birds that chase cats
Dogs that bark snow
Dragons dance
Not a show.
Still, its strange
how poems can be.
Its not life upon a tree
Chaos is thise poems name.
I think it suits, since it
has not got a mane.
Or a tail, perhaps.
Maybe thats what
thise poem lacks.
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