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August 31, 2016
More sorrow than there’d ever been,
losing one who loved a Gypsy Cream,
or Jammie Dodger if all else failed –
when the tin empty, how she wailed.
Such agony from a grumbling gut –
Oh how she loved a Ginger Nut,
or a Fig Roll, or perhaps Rich Tea.
A crumb of comfort all, that’s left of she.
Posted in: Nonsensical Madness | | Comments (0)
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