A Fascinating Iron
A fascinating iron has been nimble,
The arms are virile and clumsy.
To soak in the woollen garment
Creates a sturdy, bizarre living.
Where are the houses to manage?
My awkward delicate heads are many,
To see the fundamental question called life.
The world is timeless inside the head,
With tentacles rather like my iron.
This immaculate woollen garment
Straps to my body’s robot, living
Almost roundly by the weeks and months.
This fascinating dying is like death,
The iron is in need of the souls,
Neat figures laugh into the tablets
Of the medical doctor.
I need some time to conflict with time,
This fascinating iron is against frail limbs,
I am muscular beyond days,
I am winsome like the repose.
My emancipation has continued in daylight,
This dying is fascinating,
But what ironing is in creation?
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