Genie by repeatingarms, deviantart.com
“Dear Sir, I wish to make complaint
These fairy tales are very quaint,
And doubtless teach a thing or two
(The old ones better than the new)
But I had worked a thousand years
With wishes ringing in my ears,
All well and good… my job, I know,
But where did all the magic go?
I’m sitting, cooped up in this lamp,
With walls rubbed thin and rising damp,
My joints are creaking with disuse,
Becoming more of a recluse,
And so, at last, I make request
And hope you move at my behest…
And see your way to grant to me
A set of magic wishes three.
Come on, why not? There’s plenty still,
Aladdin had his worldly fill
And no-one’s bothered since to call,
So productivity can’t fall!
You never know, it might be cool
To let the Genie play the fool;
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