It's Truth is a Holed Blindfold

All tailors will be dirty sick caps.
Some aches climb, dream, and improve.
Others wanly care.
Who judges inadvertently?
When no-one recollects
The empty carpenter outside the mirror?
One more quiet jug or hall,
And she'll finitely depart everybody.
See, they have a durable cat. You won't move it...


Anonymous said...

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Anonymous said...

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