Just a little dumb poem.

Desmond likes bananas, yes
They’re his favorite fruit
He peels ‘em
Sliced all nice
They’re neatly placed
When he soaks flakes
Yes, Desmond likes bananas
As snackies at his work
He puts ‘em
Still wrapped tight
Brown bagged, au natural
For lunch he takes
Bananas, yes, Desmond likes
At least a few a day
He counts ‘em
One, two, three
Or so he’s told
Him big and strong it makes
Likes bananas, yes, Desmond
Could sing a song to this
He dreams ‘em
Grouped in trees
Tons ‘round his house
All wispy ‘fore he wakes

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