Astronaut Bob floats through the void,
His spaceship, a majestic sight to behold,
A floating island of humanity's greatest pride.
The stars align in a celestial dance,
As he sips on his space-cup of tea.
His space-hair a tangled, cosmic mess,
From months of zero-gravity, he's a mess.
The cosmos is his canvas, his brush the pen,
Writing sonnets that make the universe grin.
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