Catastrophe, catastrophe.
What has happened to my PC.?
The utton twixt Vand N
Will never, never work again
It`s true it`s true
No I`m not fooling` you
How can I resist
Writing like a ventriloquist
I`m as gusy as a gee
Slaving at my gusted PC
The time is getting near
To get myself a gottle of geer
For work I`ve never geen a glutton
Like Danny Reynold`s gelly gutton
I am very much afeard
That my gee has disappeared,
Gread and gutter and jam for tea
Cause my gloody PC has a groken gee
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I'll lend you mine. This is a breat poem, full of benerous jollity. bood enough to bet into The Buardian newspaper. Bot to bive you a 10 if not more for this one. A stock of B's for you. BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBB! ! ! ! Love and hugs Ernestine XXX Happy New Year.