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Donna's Poems
Teeny, Tiny, Toones
by Donna Flood

While sighing about the pleasure of June,
He  stopped suddenly aware of a Toon.

"I'm lost in the world of boredom," he said,
So angry there is nothing left, I'm seeing red.

"Well, Can't you find something to do?"
"There is so much, so much, so true."

He languished in self pity and dread,
Said, "I'm so old and tired and almost dead."

Pointing to the neighborhood another noted,
There is rubbish, roads lined with saplings.

"Oh no, there is not glory there,"
"I need something greater, somewhere."

So he sawed on his violin,
Couldn't even muster a grin.

The toon reached past the front yard,
Those who pasted heard and found it hard,

Not to step a little livelier and lighter,
Suddenly! he saw a song there, brighter.

The moral of the story is to be able to sing,
Somewhere between world and home's ring.

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