Day Twenty-Nine
People call me
The Underestimated Lettuce
Not out loud but
I see it in the way
They discard me from their burger at the barbecue
People call me
The Underestimated Lettuce
Not out loud but
I see it in the way
They discard me from their burger at the barbecue
Day Thirty I like a poem because it's not like a painting. Because I'll confidently cradle something stainless; hold the exceptio...
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