It’s Friday night,

and no one at sight,

so I sit in front of my computa’,

watching La Femme Nikita.

 

Breathtakingly cold Michael,

and stunningly gorgeous Nikita,

always keep me in marvel,

in the land of fantasia.


This particular named Roy Dupuis,

has beautiful eyes to behold, oui,

a french-speaking Québécois,

but not that famous here, oh pourquoi?

 

I’ve got mosquitoes for company,

and I’ve counted – there are thirteen,

bring them down in scrutiny,

it turns out to be nineteen.

 

My oh my, I should get my shower,

but I’m too lazy, so I make a poem!

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