

Winter is My Favourite TimeWinter is my favourite timeWinter is My Favourite Time
Burying the dead
Beneath a blanket of white
Forgetful snow that feels divine.
The cold air stimulates
My senses, opening to
My memories of yesteryears.
Times I didn't care or
Places that were fun
To me and me alone.
Now spring arrives, reviving all
That once was Dead
With its glorious
Rays of hope and lust.
How I Hate that
Despicable month known as
March. Bringing with It
Happiness to all. Killing
My fondest memories. Replacing
them with false hopes. Causing
Pain not deserved t


The PenguinsThe penguins are coming.The Penguins
Up the trees, down the hill.
Armed with sarcasm and irony.
Wearing their vests of humility.
Blast them all, the roof's been breached.
Down the sink, through the chiminey.
Thousands upon tens, with no pants.
My rug is covered in penguin pie.
Oh me, they broke my roast.
There goes the nanny and dog.
Run you cowards, no biscuit for you.
Wait, put that down, it's not yours.
My oh my, there goes the neighborhood.
Out they go, leaving nothing behind.
Only one remains, he's dressed in blue.
His eyes are black and his teet
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