Titbits & Refreshment Poem by Pierre Rausch

And here he is
He was personally concerned
“It is well, ' said the inspector
Contented with saying
In all such grants
Watched the masterpiece
Your charter point-blank
Can't we fear when we leave?
A little of the substance
As though the informer drew to himself
Disquieting to the feelings
We do not know
Send me away, I've got nothing to heat
And tell me, I can come back, when I've got something to heat
Send me away, I've got nothing to heat
And tell me, I can come back, when I've got something to heat