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There is not one here yet I've not berated,
Who's tolerances I have not inflamed,
With whom at length I have not debated,
That from in every case I have not gained.
I was never once rebuked for my scorn,
No comment made was meant to put me down,
Some statements made were indeed to warn,
But always with a smile and not a frown.
Ah this foolish poet gets them going,
And risks the friendship he doth seek to find,
All the time hoping; but still knowing,
That only friends could be so truly kind.
For I do trust with all my soul and heart,
Thus lack of judgment tears me apart.
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