A clown sat down on the rocky ground,
to ponder his coming demise.
A raven landed on a nearby fence,
and started to sharpen his beak.
"How sadly you slouch in your old hobo clothes,"
Said the raven to the clown.
"My friend how pointed is your nose,"
was the clown's reply.
The raven cocked his head to the side,
and he paused for a moment there.
"The better to pick all the meat from your bones
when you've died my carrion friend"
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