Poetry, Not Potty!

At school we have been writing poems but now we’re done. Anywho, here is a poem called a Hexaduad that I made up:

When I brush my hair, I feel like a bear

Who’s just had a long sleep, and won’t make a peep.

It’s called hibernating, and not overrating.

Then I bite my lip, and I start to slip.

But then I throw up, my sweet Buttercup.

And if you’re a boy, well sorry, Decoy.

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