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What a fella what a lovely fella happened their way What a generous fella to kindly offer all these gifts and his services for free He was of the mind to give them some of his grub But he waited until it got rank and mouldy first He then offered them a sip of his tea But thought it best to spit in it first He was generous with his backhanded compliments never missed a beat in his dance of deceit his two faced stance well maintained to entice the flies to his web Bothered to put on a show to appear likeable and relatable too, what a gent As he knit picked at their lives and put a spin on every word they uttered he meant to gently pump them up for intel for reasons known only to himself A mission that sadly bounced hard and flopped For that last bit I blame who ever created the character of James Bond Has the likes of him curtain twitching and meddling for dear life Convinced every foreign woman wants to get their mits on them, I mean resounding yuck please! His exotic fare he elaborately served on a bed of fake pleasantly, seasoned with a dash of bogus laughter He seemed appalled that they could be handed a chance at anything at all before he got to take at least ten more chances that he doesn't even need God forbid anyone else aside from him gets any upliftment Joy should start and end only with him and his kin and compassion should only ever be pointed his way He enjoys his loot only when others stay beneath him, and thrives when disparity amounts There is a hole where this man's soul ought to be And that's if it was ever there in the first place Maybe all he ever had is this humongous gaping emptiness that he has to fill at all odds because its eating him alive It seems it can only ever be filled by him generously spreading misery and contempt He tries to fill it with greed and a haughty demeanour Little does he know it will never suffice Somethings no amount of wealth can ever buy Maybe he never got enough hugs as a child I mean one might be born into abject poverty but it never stops their parents from raising loving compassionate children, one hug at a time Sometimes that's all a soul needs to thrive What a fella, poor fella with a stone for a heart and pockets weighed down by gold
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