Exceptional Magic 9 poem for Potlatch My Socks by damommy

I’m sitting on the middle stair, halfway up or midway down. You’ll always find me sitting there when nothing’s going right. I can’t go out, and it’s not fair. I have to find my socks. I’ve hunted here and everywhere, and found one red, one brown, but still don’t have a pair. Recognized Author Notes This Magic 9 poem doesnâ??t have any rules as far as meter or subject matterâ??just a rhyme scheme: abacadaba.

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