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There is a place,

Called York P. A.

To go or not,

Yea or nay.

 

Wait too long,

And rooms are gone.

You’ll have to stay

In a parking lot.

And find some sleep,

Upon a cot.

 

Be prepared to walk some miles,

Meet some friends,

And share some smiles.

 

Through the halls,

You must roam around.

Perhaps with luck,

A treasure’s found.

 

For those who will make the trip,

Hoist a glass, and have a sip.

We’ll be at home, having a nip.

 

 

 

 

 

Last edited by Bob Severin
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Yuk, yuk Steve.  Had it been so.  I do remember writing papers for many girl classmates.  I was really good at mythology, history and poetry.  And, there were no shortage of girls who were more than willing to let me do their homework.  Never went past the writing though.  Besides, I had sports, and cars, and a part-time job.  Girlfriends, to be sure, but never flocks as it were.  

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