Plunging right in:
There's nothing that I hate more than a pig,
Unless it be a flying rodent bat.
I'm also not a big fan of the cat,
The best of which can make me flip my wig
With happiness and dance a lively jig
Merely by departing. Grab my hat,
I'm leaving if the room contains a rat!
You beg me stay, but I don't give a fig.
I'm phobic, don't you see? I will not lie.
Allergic, too. My eyes swell up, turn red,
And one who does not know might think I sob,
Or maybe that I'm getting set to die.
I hear some mice squeak as I lie in bed
And curse to think of all the sleep they rob.
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