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I'm not very picky, unless faced with: Icky, sticky, pumpkin! Oh! How I glower! When faced with that sour, Slimy, stringy, slush! So I groan, And I moan, Then I run. My arms flailing! My feet, slap, slap, slapping, The cold, hard, floor. 'Till a hand grasps my shoulder, And I'm dragged to the table.. Then, I'm pushed into a chair, And a spoons pushed into my hand, And that foul mush, is pushed into the spoon. That is forced down, down, down, My gagging, unwilling, throat.
0
Mar 2, 2021
Mar 2, 2021 at 3:56 PM UTC
Pumpkin
I'm not very picky, unless faced with: Icky, sticky, pumpkin! Oh! How I glower! When faced with that sour, Slimy, stringy, slush! So I groan, And I moan, Then I run. My arms flailing! My feet, slap, slap, slapping, The cold, hard, floor. 'Till a hand grasps my shoulder, And I'm dragged to the table.. Then, I'm pushed into a chair, And a spoons pushed into my hand, And that foul mush, is pushed into the spoon. That is forced down, down, down, My gagging, unwilling, throat.
Reminiscing my childhood...
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20/F
Mar 2, 2021
Mar 2, 2021 at 3:56 PM UTC
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