 
Rhymes with Taryn
What in whiskers might there be? A dream, a laugh, a growing tree What in wishes might be made? Sands that trickle down the shade
It's red, it's red, and dancing still Baked prophet false, I've had a fill And seasons taste too bitter here I want, I try, but more they fear
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Nobody likes me, everybody hates me guess I'll eat some lies Great big fat ones, little tiny skinny ones all from my own mind
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Once there was a kitten, the cutest ball of fluff At night it chased the fireflies - it couldn't get enough And once, a little firefly went and landed on its head Kitty couldn't see the cliff,
Rhymes with Tarynin Literature
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