Day 8 Poem A Day

How can I think about something like cutting my toenails? When you are trying to tell me about your baby?

Clip,

clip,

clip, feels so good.

I never was good at being appropriate, I never masted how to cry when you are supposed to, when people look at you, when it is the time.

That you are supposed to do those things,

look,

look,

they are looking.

You are supposed to squeal.

Wah!

Wah!

Ekkk!

 

I got an F in understanding.

 

 

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