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Oh Floor
O floor.
You just sit there,
And let people walk on you.
I couldn’t do that.
There’s nothing that you can do anyway.
You aren’t alive.
You never were.
Why am I talking to you?
Babies crawl on you,
Shoes jump on you,
Angry children punch you,
And a hot blanket of carpet is laid on you.
People even sleep on you.
You can’t wake them up either.
They just sit there, like a fallen tree.
How can you deal?
And yet you stay clean, and white.
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