© 2015 by P Michael Biggs
I have a friend, his name is Sid
My friend Sid is a big kid
Want to know what Sid did
His tracks made a skid
That’s what Sid did
Sid left in a hurry
He had to scurry
He saw a snow flurry
And he was worried
Sid left real fast
And if you asked
The die is cast
This poem can’t last
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