Sometimes there is a small
Child who sits on my porch
And eats his crusty boogers with
His freshly packed lunch
Made by his somber nanny from Cuba.
Othertimes, there is a medium size dog,
Who shits on my porch,
after trying to bite my mail man's leg,
And that ugly dog howls at odd hours,
Always when I am sleeping.
I tried to throw small, yet heavy
Objects at the tresspassers.
Othertimes, I sit and I listen
To their heartbeats hum,
As I sing my own song.
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