Tough are the edges of this container,
I contain them, I persuade them
To multiply inside and sting noone,
Just to be polite and not harm someone.
Just be so polite to my corner
In the haze of speech, the speaker is!
May I add the ingenious remark to relate
So that my progeny shall never deplete.
Tougher swerves of the pen make for more noise
Than this container of quite too much joy.
Joy is in the pen of concreteness,
The stated art so piled up from centuries of work.
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