When cows fly,
They have to die,
Cause they don't have wings,
And they're not like kings,
They just munch around,
Making a sound,
Which is moooooo!
I know this poem is just stupid,
But the cover said random stuff,
So to fall in love with this book do not call the Cupid,
Otherwise I'll become very rough.
When cows fly,
They take a while,
To just float in the air,
When cows fly,
They fly with a smile,
Until they just don't care.
Rhea and me,
We then cannot see,
The cow anywhere!
