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Thou Art Quite Quaint
Smile, when you are glee,
Cause you are different,
The way you see.

Good morrow'rarchy is of the greatness, nay blood,
Solemn, elderly sir, in thy heart thee entail mud.


The moon, regardless of its pleasure beauty,
Comes alive at nights,
Although it's not a part of the sun, it is an entity.
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