Great things happen
To those who find
That every door
Has something behind
Its wooden walls
(Except those doors
Who’re made from refined
And processed ores)
That can be had
By those eho are snappin’
Their fingers with joy
At the great things that happen
To those door-finders
We’ve spoken about.
How’s that for a sentence?
Travesty, out.
The Daily Travesty 