Wrapped in Newspaper.
A stiff chill,
Sand blown into our eyes,
With salty seasonings.
The bitey, sharp vinegar.
Combined to excite,
And evoke our satisfaction.
Chunky crisp chips,
A bed for our fish supper,
All delightfully embraced,
Upon the faces of our leaders.
Showing how slimey,
They can really attain,
As they go into the trash.
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