Minute Man Poem by Luna Moon
Minute Man
His face is white,
With twelve eyes that spin.
His nose is screwed on tight,
And his hands are delicately thin.
His voice is always rhythmic,
And subtle when he speaks.
Even when you can't hear him,
His speech goes on for weeks.
Hes everywhere you turn,
You always see his face.
You'll never be alone,
When time spends your days.
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4/26/2024 4:54:22 AM # 1.0.0.1119
