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And therefor I'm all for it!
My poem is entitled,
"What doest thou think this way, Casino?"
Here I sit, in the garden contemplating,
Ev'ry Chao that does pass me by,
The one called 'Casino' seems to be creating
A picture of some other guy.
So I stay a bit longer, staring into the crayon,
Not sure what to make out of it.
It seems to resemble my one good friend Dan,
Though his head appears to be split...
I jump back, for it is now that I see,
That that is not of my friend,
Not of Dan, but a drawing of me!
Casino is plotting my end!
Why would he draw that, what did I do?!?
If only there was a way I could ask him!
I'd say "What did I ever do to you?"
But the chao do not talk, not one of them.
So I look at look at large, ovalish eyes,
He hates me, this I undoubtable know.
He seems to preparing my demise,
"Why doest thou think this way, Casino?"
all off the top of my head.
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