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attempt of a poem following a pattern. |
| I like what I like I hate not being precise I like strawberries I hate you picking on me I like candles, pencils and Nature I hate it if it stings I like the blue moon (when I get some chocolate) I hate it when I don't know where you've gone I like the sea I hate silence if I haven't asked for it I like your fingers on my skin I hate them not here I like my coloured pens I hate what I've written with them I like you I hate it |