They look up not down,

Their shavings are crowns.

Rain’s Drop pangs weary in

the day when they killed

the butler’s, if by he met

with them in the scrapper,

bearings. When one can stand

they see the cat can be

it own post on which they

legislate, for an insolent

majority bound to end the

Gay ruthlessness of Reptilians.

Whether tis noble or not will

not breed triumphant conflict

of our own lack of continuity

which noble he claimed differentiable,

Paradox of the liver creates,

our heartache, and diminishes.

 

Reason need when we do

our drudgeries to say we

bring about our own boxes,

in which our Greenness rely.

Without a lack of finality,

owls are blinded by the mouse.

Be not so one, for the Hawk

in your pancreas lacks appendix.

 

Tis not so Calamity’s day.

Why not, should sheep stray?