AND all through the house...
Keanut felt good...
Our spirits could not be doused.
At therapy school this morn,
he charmed, he dazzled.
We must toot his horn.
Since this good space will be short lived...
every hope, every wish
of course we will give.
"Motorcycle Bill" came to make the day.
For a greater guy... we couldn't pray.
This poem shall torture you no more-
tomorrow I will go back
to the writing I did before!
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