what I do
I sit slouching in the slimy seat
I crouch calmly and call my retreat
I stand softly startling the strangers
I can craft an apology creatively
I make my move momentarily
I nod next to the nevermore
I masquerade in might
I nudge by the night
I hastily ran halfway through the hole
I have into gear and the gaudy
I hated the heels of the house
I glance from the gazebo gladly
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