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| Through the Bars by Tush |
half a pizza box, piece of blue string,
once rusted steel with a coat of paint,
I tell you friends, she’s a little saint.
Through the squares of the bars,
she sees sun, moon, and stars,
while twists of wire, hold things together,
she’s learned to prepare for all kinds of weather.
Spring is coming; she can tell it’s near,
and each tender bud, she’ll touch with a tear.
Tushie 6/8/12
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