A snide of exes
Who gibed throughout
Their lifetime
Once eloped to a wine bar
In the alps
While skiing
A limit of foamy idiot odors
Via a tool box
Filled with beans
Wich was roasted
Upon a fireside
From an irate livewire
Beating ice with a fresh broom
Eating a bite size
Rye wrap
All I iris sees is divots
Being beaten by an ace
With valor
Upon lofts made of pasta
In it these waked knees
Afore a fine line
Like wisw, have no idea
Where they invented this alibi
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