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Poetry Magnum Opus

A Fairly Hopeful Tale

Frank E Gibbard

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Frank E Gibbard

my NPM poem for April 5


The baby was the head of State

with a baby's sensibilities, none

too great, no ability to concentrate

on much more than where are my

noodles mummy? A little tyke who's

shot his dummy - this infant's got

charge (oh lummy!) of his nuclear

toys, not best entrusted to men let

alone little boys. He'd believed the

tale that Davids slay huge Goliaths

trouble is that the comic book lieth.

Chappy's chubby fingers which in

his crappy nappy normally lingers

mid scratches now itches, twitches

towards switches which only some

grown-ups' mit dispatches to world

relief. Good grief! Then wham! "Oh!

dirty mini-man, you wet your pants

again" as badhairhead is wiped and

put to bed by the hand that rocks the

presidential pram. All live happy after.




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Frank! I thoroughly enjoyed this piece! You hit the nail on the head. Silly little tyrant.

To receive love, you have to give it...

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The whole wealth of an impoverished nation squandered on keeping the military in perpetual readiness for war. Some thing has to burst this protracted bubble of delusion.

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