.Il y a des po? Tes
Qui torturent les mots,
Qui menacent les lettres
Du bout de leur m? Got,
Des griffoneux, des cancres
Des fraudeurs de la prose
Qui bave de toute leur encre
Pour ne pas dire grand-chose,
Et il y a vous.
Oui il n'y a que vous
Ignorant ceu.
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