dance with a devil
things worked out better than we had planned, capital from boy, woman and man. we were like ink and paper, numbers on a calculator, knew arithmetic so well, working overtime, completed what was assigned, we had to multiply ourselves, a bouncing little baby, a shiny copper penny, and he spent himself, would not listen to us, but when he lost his appetite, he lost his weight in friends, baby became a fat nickel so fast, then came puberty, exponentially, soon our boy became a million, people loved him so, and helped him to grow, everyone knew the thing that was best, of course, he must invest, a penny won't do, but he made us proud, he made us rich, but how were we to know, he's counterfeit, now everything's ruined
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