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100,000,000,000,000 poems
He bent right down to pick up his valise
For tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
Forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
That suede ferments is not at all well known
And yet 'twas he the beggar Fate just flings
With sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
The learning linguist cameramaniac sings
The nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
It's no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
With gravity at gravity's great cog
The colonel's still escutcheoned in undress
No need to cart such treasures from the fog
And let you off from your opinions glum
They're kings we're mammal-cousins hi ho hum
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