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Et tu Richard The edges are sharp and slippery As the sea lion grapples to get a grip On the black rock So too the sword Sharp Hand wrought of the finest steel By the finest craftsman His shield emblazoned with a golden lion He died by the sword Such was his fate He fought his father He fought his mother Killed on French soil …for what? No father’s day for him! |
Additional Notes:
I started out to write about the sea lions around here ...then got side tracked to write about another lion...
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