A poem both ept and ert
I knów a líttle mán both épt and ért.
An íntro-? éxtro-? Nó, he's júst a vért.
Shéveled, cóuth, kémpt, pecúnióus, áne,
His ímage trúdes upón the céptive bráin.
An íntro-? éxtro-? Nó, he's júst a vért.
Shéveled, cóuth, kémpt, pecúnióus, áne,
His ímage trúdes upón the céptive bráin.
When life turns sipid and the mind is traught,
The spirit soars as I would sist it ought.
Chalantly then, like any gainly goof,
My digent self is sertive, choate, loof.
The spirit soars as I would sist it ought.
Chalantly then, like any gainly goof,
My digent self is sertive, choate, loof.
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