A monkey saw its reflection
In an oak framed mirror
The contours of his visage
Were refined
The glass was crystal clear
Which filled his mind with fear
“How dare he have a nicer face than mine?”
He picked up a stone
And threw it at the mirror
It hit the glass and bounced down to the floor
Digging heels in grass
He charged into the glass
And now that poor sweet monkey is no more
Serena Malcolm 
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