I am a monkey,
in a cage,
there is poop in my hand.
this is a poem,
which rhymes,
and repeats.
I am a monkey,
in a cage,
there is poop in my hand,
it smells bad.
this is a poem,
which rhymes,
and repeats,
and retreats.
I am a monkey,
in a cage,
there is poop in my hand,
it smells bad,
so I fling it,
this is a poem,
which rhymes,
and repeats,
and retreats,
several times,
I am a monkey,
in a cage,
there is poop in my hand,
it smells bad,
so I fling it,
wing it,
at my number one fan.
this is a poem,
which rhymes,
and repeats,
and retreats,
several times,
because I am.
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