I still have the first marshmallow my grandfather gave me.
It fascinated me and I started saving them in safety.
I learned how to turn marshmallows into more marshmallows.
I studIEd how to earn marshmallows.
At summer camp, I would never burn marshmallows.
I quIEtly accrued marshmallows and used them for shelter and food.
With a million marshmallows I was never abused
and people were less rude to me.
I have had my share of marshmallow-hungry women
who trIEd to dig for my marshmallows from the beginnin';
especially once I had enough marshmallows to swim in.
To ninety-nine percent of the population, marshmallows are a rarity
so I donate a few handfuls of marshmallows to charity.
I am hardly affected by the marshmallowy disparity,
even though people lIE for and steal marshmallows.
UnbelIEvably, people scheme to kill for marshmallows!
It has no real value, it is only still a marshmallow.
Just to say I have marshmallows makes me happy,
though a marshmallow does not provide me happiness, exactly.
I could pile my marshmallows into a marshmallow isle
since I have marshmallows for miles.
They tell me it is immoral but I am in denial...
like my sixty billion marshmallows could put the AIDS cure in a buyable vial.
Those notions are wild!
It take more than marshmallows to feed every famished child.
My children want me to divide my marshmallows when I dIE.
Why?! These are MY marshmallows.
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