Pure Silliness...OR...I amuse myself, therefore I am...
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The carpet of their lives was soiled by the puppies of broken dreams....
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The ice field of their existence was shattered by the penguins of fate...
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The ocean of their changing relationship was snagged by the fingerlings of romance...
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The wooded lot, that had become their daily lives, harbored racoons of sweet revenge.
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Their cave of dead end relationships, was occupied by the bear of great remorse.
OR
Within their cave of dead end relationships, slept the bear of great remorse.
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The upstream-spawn, that was their morning ritual, was slapped awake by the salmon of self-awareness.
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Like the mossy bed of a forest floor, their sheltered lives were dampened by the hoary marmot of hopelessness.
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With life mirroring the sunken feeling of a hunting seal, the seagull of hope saved the day.
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Discouraged by the silence of averted eyes, the maxim writer looked to tree tops, for help from the eagle of inspiration.
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Unfortunately, I probably could go on and on and on....So, I am applying the brakes on this chapter of my life, missing the porcupine of kismet by mere inches....