My Magic Stone Poem by (TPAC) Alexander Coppedge

Treatment for this illness to find a cure in the body at aches, swallows pills, sick undercovers times a week aid day ointment, other than appointment.

Hours felt a low woe to limit you this cold illness, its over various parts of body this chill weakness, inside your house week it's a wetness sniff nose.

Warrior acts to cut held pain it's here, goes there item combat it adhering to worry, reliefs reasons heals a soldier it assists wars mere strife a friend.

Pill put trick it is to tuck this friend hurts miseries, fights small colds muck inner hurt pain this slays, end the act pluck griefs made it victory combats.

A small rock swallowed it's to heal it seeks solely the flaws, crush anguish this beating pain to dock, soften it a tick to detain discomfort in your clock.

Official law a role fights an evil doing to provide a pusher, makes this mole it experimented on idiots, vanishing it is in hole in our body falling a tiny pill.

Product to sell is priced piling, countless dollars, of a mobster's collars it made for us aids helpers, filling them with cash to purchase pillars tall rises.

These warriors do fight pill put in it is comforting, knows this whole world it's curing in these pills it might it's aids, similar it to the wind flight no brain.