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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Holiday >> ID #898194 |
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Trouble Brewing
The night of nights is upon me now. I must make my brew, but I'm not sure how. Was that frog's warts? Or tongue of bat? I forgot my instructions! Oh do hush, cat! A dash of that, a pinch of this. Is this brew supposed to hiss? Purple steam rises and an awful stench. Leapin' Lizards! You're in trouble wench! My cauldron is melting, black iron all oozy. I can't believe my eyes and I'm feeling woozy. The next time I get an idea this bright, I'm staying in bed and sleeping all night!
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