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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=573510" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Spoilt Child...</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I’m a spoiled child, my dad is Bill<br>Our kingdom great, we masters of thrill…<br>My conception on a desktop, in a hard wheezing disk; <br>My delivery, through a window, dodging swine-virus risk; <br>My restroom, air-conditioned, in mother’s pregnant board; <br>Our receptionist, in charge, welcoming icons aboard; <br>Our mansion has spare rooms, with backup storage slots; <br>Our kitchen is African, with smiling cooking pots; <br>Indeed I’m a proud son, a proud son of Bill…</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Bigger than my name, I’m a proud son of Bill…<br>Our Kingdom great, we masters of thrill…..<br>Friends, all rich, chauffeured by daddy’s drivers; <br>Home fence, all pest-proof, free from fornicating lizards; <br>Visitors, some welcomed by father’s genius wizards; <br>Messenger, never argues, an obedient cute little mouse! <br>Compound, so green, all members can browse<br>Indeed I’m a proud son, a proud son of Bill…</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Bigger than my name, I’m a proud son of Bill…<br>Our Kingdom great, we masters of thrill<br>Our farms, awesome, all initiates explore; <br>Fun-rooms, romantic, young tourists adore; <br>Music, so soothing like death-bed tranquilizers; <br>Sound Pitch, harmonious with smiling equalizers; <br>Language, so sacred, our dictionary in binary; <br>Secrets, well hidden as resentments of an emissary; <br>Theatre, so specious with father’s grand platform; <br>Food, straws of fire, few souls can fathom; <br>Indeed I’m a proud son, a proud son of Bill….</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Bigger than my name, I’m a proud son of Bill<br>Our Kingdom great, we masters of thrill…<br>We conquerors of souls, rulers of the universe; <br>Older folks elude us like an old Greek verse; <br>Young folks hobnob us, our company, their game; <br>The blue-tied befriend us, our wealth, their fame; <br>“Facebookers” kiss us, our infatuation, their network; <br>Evil souls, seduce us, our grief, their pork.<br>Indeed I’m a proud son, a proud son of Bill…<br>Just who can foot our Bill…<br>The Bill of our Gate…<br>The Gate of our Father? <br>Indeed I’m a proud son, a proud son of Bill<br>Long live our Bill Gate! ! <br>Long live my dad! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">(INSPIRED BY THE COMPUTER WORLD)</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Meshack+Sewe">Meshack Sewe</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=573510" data-title="Spoilt Child... de Meshack Sewe" data-description="I’m a spoiled child, my dad is Bill
Our kingdom great, we masters of thrill…
My conception on a desktop, in a hard wheezing disk; 
My delivery, through a window, dodging swine-virus risk; 
My restroom, air-conditioned, in mother’s pregnant b..."></div>
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