Two pots adrift the river went—
One was of copper, one of clay.
The one of earthenware intent
From that of copper far to stay—
“Don’t touch me!” said ceramic pot!
The copper pot inquired, “Why?”
“Because you’d better touch me not!
(For contact I’ll be broken by!)”
“Oh, twaddle—that is so untrue!—
So go ahead, try touching me,
The very same should be for you—
(That’s Platonic philosophy!)”
“Well, whether you bump into me
Or I, my dear, bump into you,
The outcome should be certainly—
Disaster for me would ensue!
“You aren’t made like me the same,
So keep your distance, as I say!”
While nonetheless the copper came
Because he couldn’t stay away.
So, what do you think should occur
The moment that the couple met?
The copper ware then shattered her
And that was their last tete a tete.
For, once the clay came in contact
With him of copper it was clear
That what he had she sorely lacked
Apparently when he came near.
Although she warned him not to come
He paid no more attention to
The earthen ware who would succumb
To what the brazen pot did do.
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