Who I Am

I write of doom

I write of gloom

I am the Monk

I smell like a skunk

Sometimes I’m drunk

Some say I’m a hunk

I love the month of June

But not all the bloom

I’ll do as I like

When I take a hike

I am a fine dresser

No one is better

I have great sight

And do not bite

I love the smell of heather

And the fine feel of leather

I am the Monk

I am the Monk

 

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