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He only attended luncheons
At the poshest functions,
Always with his relations,
At such celebrations.
In the end, it added up,
Each time they went to sup,
Thus their savings multiplied
Equating to food supplied.
They never cleaned a single plate,
Except for scoffing what they ate,
And so they all got fatter,
But that's another matter.
Denis Martindale. October 2021.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem