Farm Poem by Justin Reamer
Farm
Ducking, blowing.
Cocking, clucking, bending over,
And making the sun go sing to its tune,
Screwing up every agenda that maybe there may be
There ever was to this day,
For the farmer is busy,
And to busy to be with us,
For that what he do.
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5/3/2024 8:40:17 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Aha cute n lovely farm poem dat i enjoyd tday. Thumbs up 4 it.