i spy with my little eye
the crack between a yawn and sigh
where little pigs can hide in sun
and never have their toenails done
where mom can't find me, nor i her
as i am still, the world's a blur
between this bed and that one, too
i slide into my secret place
with slanty sun yet i stay hid
to be a happy guinea pig.
~original poem by Raj Mahal
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