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A mouse called Paul
There was once a young mouse called Paul,
And though he'd no prowess at all,
He felt he could do anything,
So on him danger would befall,
The things that one shouldn't go near,
Failed to invoke in him a fear,
Which led to him imitating,
A remarkably skilful peer,
He saw the prize on a mousetrap,
Somehow retrieved without mishap,
When Paul tried it out for himself,
A squish was heard after a snap,
He's now pinned to a bit of wood,
With two back legs that are no good,
As he had felt himself able,
To accomplish more than he could.
poem
by
Christian Lacdael
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