The worms roll over in their homes
and the birds begin to weep
As the carolers tune their silver forks
along the great white sweep
While the cows sleep next to bears' heads too
the night swallows morning's sun
The glittering ground makes not a sound
when trampled by men of the gun.















Comments
It has great rhythm and rhyming.
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If you can read this, you're LITERATE.
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if the awesome factory had an explosion, you would be the result -- ComplimentBot 4000
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everybody's dying just to get the disease.
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everybody's dying just to get the disease.
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everybody's dying just to get the disease.
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