Now the Beatniks

Had colorful fuzz

The Parables

Had a pain buzz

Sometimes the Parables would watch them play

With a stare they would stick their snouts in the air

With a huff and a puff their yaks of malignity

"They think their great, making noise with their tilly-vally!"The colors were very bright. To some they were such a sight

You would think they wouldn't mind showing off their colors

But the Beatniks thought of themselves like everyone else.

All up and down Metropolitain

Beatniks big and small

Road boards up and down the mall

Xeroxs were known to try to play like the Beatniks

But to them it wasn't the same,

Until one day a strange man rode down Metropolitan

He rode some grotesque of a machine The parables were some creature

The way that they were agelast

nope they never even pulled a smile or a crack

"I am ! For I can help you Xerox's. I can make you who you want to be!"

The Xerox peered with sights of wonder and avoy.

For they wanted to know how was it the machin? Sorcery?

They thought Mr. Travesty was a little doolally.

"Now don't look at me in such a way it's not like I tell capilotade!"

Mr. Travesty was a perhendinancer looking for a honeyfuggle

He was a thwarted man who cause scevity

A valpone yes, that is he

"Why not try? Any volunteers?"

Some thought this was wrong

No one understood this!

Beatniks shouted words like

"Hookum-snivy"

"Oh the fakery!"

While the parables mumbled and grumbled things

"Phenakism"

"My i am filled with skepticism."

Suddenly the murmures and yells quieted

When one Xerox whispered

"I'll try" and he jiggled

IN avoy they watched

As the machine

ROARED and POUNCED

And flooded the air with fog

The little Xerox Came out

Filled with color

BUt no one noticed his were

Britain

They they all clapped and cheared

For Mr. Travisties machine had worked

And every Xerox Wanted to try

So soon no one could tell the difference

Beween Xerox and Beatnik

They played and laughed

UNtil One Xeox sat alone

A Beatnik with swirled gold and other colors

Saw this site

"Whats the matter? Isnt this what you wanted?"

"Oh yes, but now i feel as if i am pulling a fakery

Is there anyway to be who i was before?"

He cried sadly

"Well of course there is! JUst be you!"

And the litle Xerox smiled

He jumped up and became himself

His colors of Fakery faded

Along with the other Xeroxs

The colors died

They didnt notice with their

Happiness

And the Beatniks

Were the only ones colored

But the Beatniks and Xeroxs played

Noticing they were all different

In every way