I was eating an orange
On my trip to Blorenge.
What? You say I made up the word?
It's a hill in Wales, not just absurd!
Well on my way, my face turned purple,
As I ran into a giant curple.
That means the ass of a horse!
An ass's ass is called that too, of course!
I reached the hill at the end of the month,
Finishing an orange, my hundred-and-oneth.
You know that one's kinda a word, maybe obsolete,
But you know damn well it made my rhyme complete.
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