I build bridges of silver and crowns of gold.Who
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I build bridges of silver and crowns of gold.Who am I?
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Thirty two white horses on a red hill, racing on a track I formed, their hooves with lead weights I fill, their head with golden hood adorn. I fasten railroad tracks on enamel tile
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, amused at my clever poetry. Oh I was the engineer of this fast train. "Chew, Chew!" I commanded. Then the little brat bit me, jolting me back to reality.Pediatric dentistry isn't
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a field I'd recommend for the fainthearted. The little brat--er, that is, Charlie tried to bite another finger, and the dental drill slipped from my grasp. Oh well. That tooth was
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to short anyway.
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"It's too short anyway" said every slut in the room
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And that's when the blingy-clad man walked up to the mic and said, "Say ho, can axe you a question?"
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Axel rose up and asked, "You want to borrow my axe?" The bingy-clad man said, "No." His head got bashed in and Axel said, "I answered his question." The backstreet poet society was
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at a loss as they frantically tried to come up with a word that rhymed with that. They couldn't even agree how many syllables were needed or where the stress needed to be. Kerplat.
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There once was a man from Kerplat / Who chortled at humor with scat / One late summer night / A dream gave him fright / So to lighten the moment, he shat.
5
- Started
- 2014-10-06 14:43:17
- Finished
- 2016-09-01 22:03:20
1 Comments
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SlimWhitman Sep 02 2016 @ 04:18
From dental poetry to street poetry, not a big gap.