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The Mule Man

The mule wrote
In the twilight
Across a tapestry
The mule wrote
In the daylight
Forgetting about me.
His pen strode across the paper
He looked worried, hurried, flurried
His pen rode across the paper
Then he stopped
And sighed
And thought
How he's lied
But then he went on writing
The mule just went on writing
Anyone, man or beast,
Can do an awful deed
But the one who has no guilt,
Is an a**, for real, indeed.





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