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This is exactly like Wikipoem, except you add a line each. The rules are otherwise the same.
What is that sound, caught on the breeze?
It is the sound of a llama's sneeze.
Nobody knows from where it comes
But it smells like a lot of rum
What is that thing that I see over there?
Is it a duck or an easy chair?
It's hard to tell, but one thing's for sure:
It tastes a lot better than an apple core
Yes, I'm quite tall, and you're quite short
If that makes you angry, then we'll go to court.
When I'm running out of things to write,
I get quite mad and even bite
What is that smell that meets my nose?
It is the smell of stinky toes
It could be socks, or just plain feet,
And I'm sitting in a seat.
What is that thing with a nasty taste?
Is it fruitcake or just fish paste
It could be neither, it could be both
"Egads! It's haggis!"; thus I quoth
What is this that I feel in my hand?
Maybe it is colored sand
No, I don't know how it got there,
It's hard to get it out of the hair
What is that in my underpants
It feels like... bees? No wait! It's ants!
It itches so bad, they crawl and bite,
I may not sleep at all tonight!
What be that inside me sock
Is it sand, or just a rock?
It could be either, I've no idea,
But it gives me diarhea
What is that phrase I read in a book?
The book which from the library I took?
I can't remember, now my brain hurts,
But maybe it was about Ernie and Bert
No, wait! I remember! It was to do with
A llama that was in an urban myth
But what is that I see over there?
It looks like a green koala bear
Yet it smells like something rotting and gross
A half-eaten burger or cheese on toast
My science teacher is a bore
To deny it would be against the law
It's like nothing I ever saw
Even on that rubbish safari tour
And then I got a canonical sore
To both of these I do abhor
I wrote graffiti on the science room door
Now the teacher's fired, he's there no more!
He has no job so now he's poor
All of this was written in lore.
And now a new beginning's here
Streched out on the rack of fear
I'm not sure why, but, on the floor
Lies a TV remote and a dead whore
She seems to be, missing one ear
But it set alight, as I cowered in fear
And it was a sight to behold
I will remember it until I'm old
Alas! The flames have consumed my house
There's just nothing left to douse
Then Stephen Hawking stole my car
So he and I were forced to spar
It was an easy win for me
He hit a singularity
And found a big capillary
Yet he aimed with uncertainty
And hit the ceiling with his wee
Only to be stung by a hovering bee
His arm developed a great big lump
Then he fell upon his rump
He tried to get up,