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An Ode To Number Eight


Numbers are for counting,

Not for crowning,

Numbers are for Maths,

Not for tax,

Numbers are for identity,

Not for entity,

 

 

 

Certain numbers beckon the flock

But eight sucks,

As many dread its pluck,

Because it brings bad  luck,

Oh! it is a mere superstitious  buck.

 

 

Number Eight is propitious to Chinese,

As it is in their Cantonese,

A     gorgeous  appease,

Signifying prosperity and peace,

Carrying with it wisdom and release.

 


 

What does eight propound?

It is but another sound,

That is dressed up as a hound,

Extricating a deliberate  impound,

That of a curious found.

 

 

 

Imagine the order without  eight,

It makes an odd bite,

Leaving a void right,

Interpreting an imbalance  straight,

Voicing a  bill incorrect.

 

Oh!  It is up to all of us

To consider Eight  as an octopus,

And accept it as a plus,

That  evolves a gleeful buzz,

Reaping a meritorious  crush




 

 








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