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Replying to a comment on:
Ode to Molly (Free verse) by knickytoy Half moons hang
Under overgrown bangs,
Glossy naugahyde nose;
Curled in angles,
Born of angels
In my mother's home.
My wittle honey
Can smell funny,
But she keeps me warm.
I'll love her to pieces
Til time itself ceases;
She's my heart and soul.
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