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The trouble with geraniums

is that they’re much too red!

The trouble with my toast is that

it’s far too full of bread.

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The trouble with a diamond

is that it’s much too bright.

The same applies to fish and stars

and the electric light.

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The troubles with the stars I see

lies in the way they fly.

The trouble with myself is all

self-centred in the eye.

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The trouble with my looking-glass

is that it shows me, me;

there’s trouble in all sorts of things

where it should never be.

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