For my fifty fiffin fife, I’ll attempt to keep Shiva alive

For my fifty fiffin fifth,
Mom asked me for a cinch.

World peace was the wish,
This is how’ll I’ll mince.

No more poo pooing,
Just more coo cooing.

No more queue queuing,
Just more Pro ooing.

It’s a privilege to be here,
Time to bling up the rear.

Like a Chinese on hot coals,
The oo-ooing sooths the folds.

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