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Maybe this poem will help you decide!
I raced to the copier – clock ticking by
Masters shoved in the top and heaved a sigh
Pressed GO and relaxed upon my heels
Smiling and dreaming as motors pushed wheels
All of a sudden – with a blink and a squeak
Black stuff erupted “Hell! There’s a leak”
Lights wildly flashed as it ground to a halt
Screaming at me – another paper jam fault
I opened the front to take a quick peep
Face - black as your hat, a true chimney sweep
A dense black mist shrouded the air
And settled gently on my newly washed hair
My arms thrashed about to clear the fug
The copier squeaked and looked rather smug
I growled and I cursed and gave it a kick
“I need these copies, and I need them quick”
I realised then without a shadow of doubt
It was time to turf this copier out
For years gone by it had copied its best….
… Now was the time to put it to rest
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