Where it not for one to play buffoon
or to say of none we’re way too soon
involved in peddling mass hysteria
when it’s been held in each posterior
consciousness – makers of peace are
blessed. So ever to be near or far
we at our disposal have in hand
a power to write upon our sand.
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I apologise if these poem was a serious one. I get the humour if you meant to be. It make me
smile Bravo!