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The mouse is alive; oh, yes, it's alive!
Now, what shall I ever do?
The fear that occurs, will I ever survive;
Could be that I'll learn something new.

It's not as frightening as I thought;
it's run by electric impulse.
Itís doing its work just as it ought,
and does not make me convulse.

It enables me to convey to my friend
The thoughts which I bring to my mind.
And, so, little mouse, it isnít the end,
Youíre useful for me to find.

Youíre helping me get to the right place,
So that I can now type this poem.
Although I really can't see his face,
Itís by his neat thoughts that I know him.

©11/18/2010 Carol Morfitt
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