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written by devil-dick12:16 PM 8/31/04the man age 56
walked with a crusifix
his path he chose was long and hard.
this was still in his small green yard.
he hearda noise, he started to Wibble.
then his mouth frothed, and he started to dribble. |
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Author's footnotes and comments on this Poem:
havent got a title, i wrote it as a friend asked me to write a poem with wibble in, so i did
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