My own hands are dirty and my own heart is impure; however, I have seen the light. I repent.
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, bright and cheery, In the penthouse of my tower on the fifty-seventh floor — While I sat there, Donald Trumping, suddenly there came a thumping, As of someone gently bumping, bumping up against my door. “’Tis some immigrant,” I muttered, “coming in to clean the floor — […]
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