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brief poem about life's issues. |
| My running days are over, my fighting days are not. Poke me, poke me, poke me, I'm forced to take a shot! No different than an eagle, encroached by pending doom. Defend, defend, defend, against the likes of you! True to form, with lots to say; blame myself for everything. Squawk a bit, then squawk some more; play more tricks, then fly away! |