Log 9

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A poem, about No Nut November.
When the nut was plentiful,

when the nut was tender

because I'm fasting from the nut,

I go outside to clear my mind

but I see a nut tree,

I see nuts of every kind

And so I being to wonder

if fasting from the nut is a blunder

should I just go crazy?

should I release the thunder?

But oh, no!

I made a bet that I could resist the nut

and I am not about it!

Best believe I'm not paying that five dollars.

A week left in my journey

for the nut I am yearning.

The nut will not bug me,

I'm not a roly poly

I am a man, the nut will not control me.

So December comes blooming,

blooming like a daisy.

Best believe, night of December;

your boy is going crazy.

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