they love to read
what you write.
they look at it
every day, obsessed,
and say,
oh no, what next,
what will he say today
that will make us sad
and weep.
the phone rings, and they
hear the secret messenger
saying, he's done it
again, hurry up
and run to read todays
paper, then hide.
oh me o my.
where's my bottle,
my binky, my blanket.
these words, these words
will make us
go tinkle and cry.
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