Our innocence is lost in thin air;
And we are forced to bear.
Here, the same tune is to hear;
And the bear is called deer.

Gun is our favourite thing;
Because it has got a big wing.
Also, it is kept for a swing;
And we call it the uncrowned king.

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I am a child, particularly, a peculiar son;
And my boring homework is done.
Our shops are closed everyday;
And are also forced to be at bay

Morality is too awkward for us;
Because we don’t like to board a bus.
Let me live fully for a day.
As George Orwell is on his way.

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