Having found folk fails stopping me wondering which abode
Could have been my home; which bozo one of my folks.
My life an overkissed toad with no princely signs
Searching phonebooks, what for mystifies.
I can no more be stopped
Than a coin dropped from atop
Some unlopped giant can be stymied
By a leaf.
Every furtive rhyming thing seems eager to cling to me
After I bleed.
Alchemisland 
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