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The drunks Poem

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Starkle,starkle,little twink,
who the hell are you I think.
I'm not under what you call,
the alcofluence of incohol.
I'm just a little slort of sheep.
I'm not as drunk as thinkle peep.
I don't know who is me yet.
But the drunker I stand here,the longer I get.
So just give me one more fink,to drill my cup.
Because I have all day sober to Sunday up.



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