the illiterate zoro

Zoro was a free thinking lad,
He was taught that,
from his dad.
it turned out not bad,
what he didnt know seemed sad
was to bow his head – dressed in plaid.

It didnt show whenever they met,
and there came along another threat,
nay went his head,
and so on it went he said,
jr – just call up the fed.

He sworded up his finest tool,
grabbed his props off his fool.
Brushes dices and noodles to cool,
plus a barrel of laughs with his mule.

He stood with pride and honor and joy,
For when remembering as told as a boy.
If your fighting a battle – but its got no mantle.
Best leave it and return to Seattle.

But the mole appears with bugs each side,
armed with a lecixon that luthor provide.
a linguistical satire no man could match,
It provided a cartilage for his stash of sash.

He ripped it out like a sage on heat,
tipped it down with the kick of his feet.
No one asked what was within,
His fluid fantacy contained in his grin.

“Higgidy piggidy pop,
out of this match you sot.
Harringstons wart, flemingtons fraught,
merryweather start that snort.”

agast from the heights of the stand,
They looked down on this curse carrying man.
But in the corner came heat – they could feel them retreat.
Best write down those spells for next week.

Whahman Wynnt

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