Save for my elephant, Everything´s ready for the trash.
If it wasn´t for my moa egg...
Breakfast- the lustful bacon, wanted toast, needing hash.
Without my rebel true spell.
My rhymes would be quite soggy.
As luck would have it, that kind of magic shows the way when it´s foggy.
Had I not my lochness lust eye.
The waves would lose freshness in my mind.
The depth of my verse would be cursed left behind!
The symbolic nature in the way I paint an event.
I need no lucky charm- For I am the seventh.
A crazy word and wild verse farmer.
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