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Maybe i should write a poem about all the people who think they know what i should be writing poems about
It was just then in the fading light that i spotted a pair of ducks emerging from a clusters of reeds to paddle out to a open water the female glancing back over her russet shoulder just in time to see me searching my pockets for a pen.
I knew it, she quacked, with a bit of a brogue. But who can blame you for following your heart? she went on. Now, go write a lovely poem about me and the mister.
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