The story of ‘Bill Gates’

Once upon a time,

A man of councils, loved Gates;

And concrete;

All of which could be billed;

Not surprisingly,

He came to be called Bill Gates.

The man of councils; gleefully pulled down

Old and aesthetic gates,

Just to replace them with ‘Ornamental’

Monstrous concrete structures,

But could be billed pretty heavy;

So,

Bill Gates and his merry men had a field day.

And one day he began to pull down the Gate

Of the park yonder, besides the canal;

Sledgehammer and crowbar, pick axe and spade,

His merry men began their dastardly act,

Till a Samaritan of plants and trees,

Said; Halt!

You do what you cannot do; beware

The merry men now chary,

Slunk away sheepishly;

Looks like this gate can’t be billed, Bill Gates,

We have to look for greener pastures.

So the booth that sold milk seemed fertile hunting grounds,

For nary a man or beast would object.
So down came crashing the gate at the booth of milk,

And a moon craters dug,

To take many a truckload of concrete

So the bill of the gate would be heavy

And the gate horrendous to the spectator,

Just the way of Bill Gates.

The people stood by

impervious, nonchalant,

Whilst Bill Gates

Raised Bill on them Gates pretty heavy,

And laughed all his way to the bank.