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The Fear Of Three.
Sorry to put up another poem so soon, I think I'm a little addicted!
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The Fear Of Three
When I was young
it reached only three -
the dreaded count of doom.
At two and three quarters
be good,
be still, or
SMACK!
UP TO YOUR ROOM!
In years to come
mock those, we would -
Scarred
by the fear of three.
The sound checker's curse.
One. Two.
Two. One.
They never counted three.
But times, they change,
and now - you're three,
the count,
it starts at five.
Doom comes at one,
but at two you run
to me;
your doom deprived.
The fear of three
You shall not know,
for those days -
they are gone.
At night it is whispered,
the feared mantra,
reciting;
One. Two. One. Two.
Two. One.
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