In an old lady’s garden where wonders amass,
There once grew a bean, an enigma not to surpass,
Three loud mouths it possessed, a curious sight,
Polite, sarcastic, and rhymes filled to give fright.
The mouth on top spoke with false gentle grace,
Words of seeming humorous kindness, a warm embrace,
“Good jolly day to you,” it sweetly sang,
A melody of manners, with the feel of warmth it rang.
The second mouth down spoke with a twist of wit,
Scathing sarcasm flowed from its every bit,
Mocking jests, sly piercing remarks it threw,
A tongue sharp as blades, cutting you through.
But the third mouth, oh, most peculiar with rhyme,
Unleashing words like a reverse twisted mime,
Its verses, ghastly, oh, so bad, brought a shiver,
A cacophony of rhyming horrors it would deliver.
A bean with three mouths of contrasting strain,
Each voice distinct, leaving others in disdain,
A symphony of chatter, a curious affair,
A blend of politeness, sarcasm, and rhyming scare.
The image is a digitally remixed charcoal drawing
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