A man in a can
There once was a man who’s home was a can,
His size so small he’d fit in your hand.
Along one day came a great gust of wind,
And lifted the poor man, and his house of tin.
Into the air and over the land,
He peeked out to see beaches covered in sand.
With wind dying down he began to descend,
Leading to an utmost saddening end.
I hate to finish on such a bad note,
But as you all know cans’ do not float.
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