A skeeter gave me quite a bite,
The bite made me pull the string real tight,
And, I flew off towards the Earth's skylight,
Of course flying high was quite appealing,
Until, I hit the Earth's great black ceiling,
Then, I had this real bad feeling,
That real bad cards to me, were dealing,
Finally, I started to mostly freeze,
First my fingers then, toes and knees,
And, although I was desperate to heave a sneeze,
My frozen mucus didn't rate a wheeze,
At last a spaceship passed nearby,
I think that pilot could barely fly,
He let his spacecraft engines burn through my string,
Then I had to do that falling thing,
Down toward Earth I fell ever faster,
Toward my own personal disaster,
Seems a soft ocean landing I could not master,
For I splashed down on a birdbath made of plaster.
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