There was once an old man,
Who owned a clockwork fox.
She was kept in a wooden box.
He was a Cad and so had a plan.
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The old man wanted to make fortune,
He wanted to use his contraption,
To make his life reach fruition.
The fox played a broken tune,
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And told the children stories.
Stories with gruesome endings,
Stories that left hearts bleeding,
Tales that lack the Prince’s glories.
The clockwork fox has no feelings,
Her heart long broken by the old man’s dealings.
Fox Writing 