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Great Grandpa is a wise old man who says he's ninety-four.
He tells me that he lost his leg fighting in some war.
When I was just a little tot with eyes and nose still runny,
He swears that he forgot my name, so now he calls me Sonny.
Balter's poem reminds me of my own grandfather whom I lost 49 years ago when he was 94. I remember his two habits very lucidly. He was a frugal eater. He used to weigh his food every time...
Hear eye sit inn English class; the likelihood is that eye won't pass
An F on my report card wood bee worse than swallowing glass
It's knot that eye haven't studied, often till late at knight
Butt the rules are sew confusing, eye simply can't get them write
Very clever and funny, but it kinda blows my mind reading through this at the same time! How on earth did I manage to learn this wonderful, confusing language?! I must be converting it into...