Lock Cart
Beach sandals and sunfrower seeds.
You liked salmon
smoked, and gradwrapped brie, with
tea ice cold -- the favorite holds,
even through the turning revolving
doors.
Don't cuddle don't dwadle, please
run away, my 'overly-lay.
A single drop of water
won't pierce her heart.
Shame it's a lock cart --
no hope. Please
own up -- please act your part.
Voice your hate or
end the same.
Disgust has no art.
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