A humourous poem.
When I think of it now it all seems so clear.
Dad’s hidden persona lain hidden for years.
The clues were all there if I’d only just thought,
Using reasoned deductions Conan Doyle might have sought…
Pieced together the clues, like an old jigsaw puzzle,
of an old family trait that they all tried to muzzle;
It fills me with dread (it may fill you with mirth).
There’s a very good chance my dad is a smurf…
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