I won't be able to what?
I take that back. you probably would. I was making a shitty point and I needed "gravitas" I now apologize for gravitating towards you in the sense of you not being able to make poetry happen.
FAGOOT (:
I'll accept the apology in the form of you giving me a writing prompt.
A white child from white parents trapped in Palestine, is born (you guessed it) in Palestine. They are spies from Norway hunted by the Mossad-owned Hezbollah. They need brown cheese to stay sane, and the only way to get it is for the father to phone his mom, which he hates most direly. The child is Christ incarnate. (Basically they just want their brown cheese, they don't know the child is literally Jesus.)
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