I sit and twiddle my thumbs
Thinking about beautiful buns
Not the kind with cinnamon and raisins
The one with two lovely grins
Smiling back at me
As they fade into the distance
I take a sip of my tea
And realize I have no resistance
I want to get up and follow
Somehow my legs seem hollow
So I sit back down on my buns
Go back to twiddling my thumbs
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