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Ode to Burt's Bees

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Oh Burt's Bees, you beeswax lip balm.
My lips are dry,
They are suffocating.
Without your soothing existence,
I am nothing.

I bite my lip,
I taste blood.
My lips are like china glass without you,
Waiting to shatter into a million crusty pieces.

Your refreshing essence lives in my pocket,
I yank your cap off.
Minty goodness fills my nose with delight.
I apply you to my shrivling lips,
You save me from a trecherous death.
I feel my crusty lips start to heal,
The tingling starts,
I am in heaven.





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