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You ever wonder why my every poem’s ten of ten?
I’ll whisper you my secret–it’s my special ballpoint pen.
It’s the hottest on the market, and it cost me lotsa bucks:
The Writ-o-nator 50,000 Super-Turbo-Luxe.
It’s engineered for excellence, from tip to sculpted tip,
From ultra-fine ball bearing point to silver-plated clip,
From rubber-coated, bio-moulded ergonomic grip
To reservoir that’s guaranteed to never, ever drip.
It’s bold but silent: great to draw a quiet quarter rest,
Yet fine enough for demisemiquavers–and the best
At writing clever copy that no editor can edit;
When it writes 'STET,' no editor can ever quite un-STET it.
It won (and then filled out) its own fine penmanship award.
This model was the first to be more mighty than the sword.
In a thousand different languages this implement can scribble
A million phrases, from Je ne sais quoi to Ish ka bibble,
In a thousand different colors, from cerulean to pink!
I’ll write and write, assuming that I don’t run out of