Pitter

No plan for Roberta
Big old humpy Roberta
Warthog
Rolls and digs
She flicks between her paw
The goupy muck dried to
She leans in the hot sun
She cracks a corner of her mouth
and stares at that hot old sun
Dear Roberta
She stools up her knee
She piles up those heaps
And ties up till three

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