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prompt3 Mimic poem
Im am fourteen
And my pizza has betrayed me.
And my miniature lasagnas I cannot live without
They burn my tongue very sneakily
How come my pizza is always so hot
What if I die before I finish the box
And my hands reach for more and there's none,empty,hollowI have to learn to slow down
To have some for later
The pizza box is to small for me
Suppose I die before I finish all of it
They will sing harmonies
But to tell the truth about me
There's nothing I want to eat and too much
That has to be eaten
And my hands reach for more and there's none empty,hollow
Nobody evans stop to thinks
About my side of it
I should of have a extra large to my myself
My mouth is more wider than his
Why do I have to be the
One
To eat to fast
I will have nothing to eat tomorrow
Will I live long enough
To recognize the realization
And my hands reach for more and there's none ,empty,hollow
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