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  • February 2012

    I don’t know what happened to me this morning.
    I was abruptly woken by a terrible sound,
    The door opening.
    And an excruciatingly bright light,
    The sun, as they call it.
    Boss picked me up by my hair and swung me out of my resting place.
    I’m feeling nauseated.
    Smash, he let me go.
    All my insides jumbled at impact.
    I hate it when he just throws me down,
    He doesn’t always.

    I’m getting bored now.
    There’s nothing to do,
    No one to manage,
    No one to talk to.
    The table is too proud for me.
    And this cone is rude.
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