A man sitting high on the blue full moon
The honey is not a thing of stress,
The love of the honey hooks millions of cell
And below are thousands hungry heads,
Begging for a taste of the wild sweet red.
The man eating of the enormous red on the moon
Belly full and still more honeies to spare
But chose to keep the red for his coming children,
Why many died below for the lack of taste of this red.
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