By 
I can Harley say that I’m not a joker. But owl see in court if my night wings can be stretched. Robin me with guns pointed yelling, Mr., Freeze. Cold to the touch and diving as a penguin to take the plunge. I’m riddled by the two faces I see. Dents made on hoods to restore shape upon clay faces. Such poison drawn. I Gotham all confused with puns written out to reflect the dark night. Let the light shine.
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