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Poetry By: RJohnson

Tags: Humor

I got the idea for this fictional poem from a cartoon in a magazine.

Submitted:Oct 18, 2007    Reads: 108    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   

People pick strawberries from my field for two dollars a pound.

Since you've been here, my number of strawberries have gone down.

You put some of the strawberries you pick in your baskets but you eat some when I don't look.

You're going to send me to the poorhouse because you're a crook.

I don't like people like you because you're dishonest and you're a dirty rat.

You have a big strawberry stain around your mouth and I'm charging you an extra ten bucks for that.


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