careful son hes got a big ol' knife and he cut you
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Here we go again,
Storm is making more rhymes.
He does it so awesome,
It's classified as a crime.
Round and round we go,
Now I shot you in the ear.
So I call to my dog,
And tell Miza to bring my slippers here.
Slippers on foot,
I recline in my comfy ass chair.
As I sit here,
I can feel my cats' stare.
So I gathered my thoughts,
And polished my keys.
Now here I come,
Strapped to a pair of skis.
Isn't this insane,
My awesome rhyming scheme?
I'll bet it is,
As awesome as energy beams.
Now my poem draws to a close,
And I come up with more things to say.
So here's the last one,
Now I'll go away.