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The Hippo
May 12, 2009
He plays in mud.
He is my bud.
All the lady hippo’s think he’s hot,
Cause he can dance like a robot.
He has a face.
He fly’s in space.
He has bonfire’s,
While sitting on wires.
He drinks root beer,
And plays with a sphere.
This poem is over,
In his land rover.
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Favorite Quote:
Just another casualty.
It's sad but true.
And even dead I'm still ahead
of most of you.