As the laundry bin spins
My mind intends
To find the perfect way
But in the jumbles
my heart, it stumbles
And thoughts are lead astray
Then it beeps
and out fall the heaps
of the wrinkled and worn
To put in the drawer
Or hang once more
But everything appears torn
I must decide
which to hide behind
and which to throw away
As the laundry bin spins
My mind intends
To find the perfect way
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