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Zecora/Bloomberg

There is a lovely tree I know
Whose branches hang so sweet and low,
Whose apples are so crisp and tasty:
I savor them, am never hasty.
He tells me no pony but I
Can be the apple of his eye,
For he is mine, and mine alone,
No matter what AJ intones.


I love to climb upon his trunk
And pick some thick bough as my bunk.
I'll lie within his crown all day;
I'm rocked to sleep when branches sway.
And sometimes when I feel like rutting
I'll find a limb that is out jutting.

Author's Note:

"You do WHAT with Bloomberg?!?" :ajbemused:

I'm pleasantly surprised how easily and well this came out. The fact that it is a monologue allows me to cram a lot more information into one hundred words. I've always been good at writing poems for some reason, or at least making stuff rhyme and follow a specific meter has never been difficult for me.

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