Whoever invented the clip had me in mind.
Papers flying all over need to settle and bind.
Birds of a feather may stick together but I’m
a pig in a pen with a stye in my eye. In short it’s time
I change my ways and staple the ample to a limb.
So when I move I’ll take one and all along
and row row row your boat like a song.
Yes it’s a must to sink and rust
Your days are scraps on the bust
of the fairest maiden in clover.
No, shake her off and go pet Rover!
I’ve said my piece but remember this,
“A kiss is just a miss.’’
Now where did I put those piles of scraps.
Maybe it’s better to eat taps.
Then hum them up before the Master Pup,
“I will bark but remain silent!”
Clumsy at first but it could be worse.
Honor thy clips forever!