Poem by N.C Cusack
The sweet sightful moves of an African cheetah
Swooping across the boilling sand of mid-africa
The sun continues to roast the warm fur coat of the feline
As it continues to stride through Africa devine.
It lays down on a rather heated up rock
The cheetah claimed it's resting area
But the reasons of its stop
Was its escape from Malaria
Coming to another increase in speed
The cheetah strolls the farmers of weed
It's green and has an escents of an unfirmiliar smell
But all it knows, was it was grown well.
Passing the various sites of note
The cheetah felt a tad of pain in its throat
The problem was, it couldn't investigate
about the rather dangerous thing it ate.
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