Abdulrahman and I
Are the greatest of friends
But there are things he cannot see
Which I see for him instead
The light upon the table
The moon outside the door
Abdulrahman fails to see them all
For his rage is steady as a gale
His humor filled with bile.
Beware of Abdulrahman
For clouds cover his sky
He speaks and speaks and speaks
And those below him tremble
But Abdulrahman has some problems
That never can be mended
A boil on his buttocks
A tumor on his tight
Abdulrahman does not know
One day he’ll surely die
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