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Careless | ||
| Caterpillars on the floor Are just Karen's beads galore. Yellow, red, or green, or blue, They can trip a careless shoe. She has strung them with such care. Then she left them anywhere. We are often careless, too, With the things we try to do. Though they take our time and skill We will soon forget the thrill. May we more protective be Of all things we like to see. | ||
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