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A poem about moving. |
One day I don't like is moving day It seems nothing goes my way It's all hard work and boring too There is always more to do. You work hard and get it done No harder thing under the sun Furniture and clothes and stuff galore Sorting and labeling, what a bore! The work seems to go on forever When will we finish my guess is never Work hard both day and night Heavy lifting, what a delight! Then at last the work is through I settle into a home brand new. Author's note: No meter intended. |