Once upon a time
On the clock's eightieth 14th chime.
There lived an old man of crime.
Who looked and smelled like lemon and lime.
In his presence he kept a mime
And a jar of dried up slime.
The old man maintained a happiness so sublime
One that resulted from his life filled with grime.
He did not the mountains want to climb
He did not wish to build a rhyme.
He did not even want to learn about Kime.
The man and his mime
Lived their life and time
They came they went and even cooked with thyme
And now I will be done with this silly game of rhyme.
On the clock's eightieth 14th chime.
There lived an old man of crime.
Who looked and smelled like lemon and lime.
In his presence he kept a mime
And a jar of dried up slime.
The old man maintained a happiness so sublime
One that resulted from his life filled with grime.
He did not the mountains want to climb
He did not wish to build a rhyme.
He did not even want to learn about Kime.
The man and his mime
Lived their life and time
They came they went and even cooked with thyme
And now I will be done with this silly game of rhyme.
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