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BLOOMS BUDDING OUTSun shining time to do some pruning Reached high belt buckled Neighbor said, "Who are you mooning?" The dog next door looked began crooning Day ended couldn't bring my arms down Wife said, "Dear, what is that creaking sound?" Next year hiring illegal immigrants Cause this age it is embarrassing the falling pants It's St Patrick's day little gremlins doing their dance Ladies the Blarney kiss each year I gave you a chance Heading straight to bed too tired for counting sheep If I can get out of the shower before I go to sleep Doorbell rings neighbor and a cop at the door I wasn't mooning them my pants were on the floor I couldn't pick them up pain too much to ignore Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades Vote for this poem
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