Sunday, March 19, 2006

Waxing Poetic

I’ve got me this carnauba stuff
it seems ok, but I’m no buff;
a fluffy pad that’s nice to feel,
a haggard hulk of waiting steel
that gains a glint with every scrub,
inviting me to fiercely rub
with all the power I can muster,
yet every finish seems lackluster—
perhaps someday I’ll proudly beam
when I produce one brilliant gleam!

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