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Every Ginga's different, but they all bring me joy.

Big ones, small ones,
Ones with boogly eyes;
Tall ones, fat ones,
Ones with thunderthighs;
Good ones, bad ones,
Holy ones that pray;
Naughty ones, pathetic ones,
Ones that laze all day;
Ones that bounce off ceilings,
Ones that bounce off walls;
Ones that stay so silent,
Ones that play with balls;
Bent ones, straight ones,
Gay ones, and some bi;
Happy ones and so-so ones,
Depressed ones that just cry;
Laughing ones, creative ones,
Music ones with arts;
Ugly ones and mutant ones
And ones that do big farts;
Lonely ones and friendly ones,
Huggy ones that kiss;
Get-off-me ones, sleepy ones,
And ones that need to (you know!)…

Every Ginga's Speshull,
And I just love them all;
They're always there supporting
At my every beck and call.
So as I travel through my life,
I take their smiles along.
As they remind me that I'm Speshull too,
I sing a Ginga Song.

Gingas rock, those nommy treats,
I love them; they are funny.
I'd hug them more, but every time,
They end up in my tummy.
And whilst they come and go in life,
For just a tick of time,
I'll ne'er forget their lovely grins -
They make my life sublime.

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Copyright © Copyright ©2019 Daisy Shylass All Rights Reserved. This material may not be reproduced, displayed, modified or distributed without prior permission. Please be respectful of my intellectual property.

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