Average Joe
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Ode to Averageness.
Oh to be average,
how comfortable and sweet,
never first
never last
but always at the meet.
Oh to be average,
what would I do without your bounds,
The winter rain at a driving pelt
Did batter the city park
And on a bench sat a city beggar
Far past the hour of dark
He sat and with a mighty shiver
Groaned deep from the outer cold