I had a little octopus,
I took him to the doctorpus,
Because the thing was illipus.
The doc prescribed a pillipus,
For octopus to eatipus.
He ate it with his feetipus,
Which made him cough-and-chokeipus,
Poor little, squid-like blokeipus.
Unfortunate young octopus,
Went straight back to the doctorpus.
“Oh! Octopus! You’re backipus,”
Said doc, “Alas, alackipus.
There’s nothing I can doipus,
Unless the pill you chewipus.”
The hapless little octopus,
Stared squarely at the doctorpus.
And said, “I cannot crunchipus,
I have no teeth to munchipus.”
The kind and helpful doctorpus,
Considered, thus, the octopus.
“Prosthetic teeth are whatipus,
I’ll get in just a jotipus.”
And off went friendly doctorpus,
To find false teeth for octopus.
Then octo ate his pillipus,
Which made him well, not illipus.
So, when you have an octopus,
Who’s ill and needs a doctorpus,
You’d better bring false teethipus,
For octo’s pain reliefipus.
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