Do you know about the Willie poems? I grew up with this stuff. My mother used to recite them to us.

Willie found some dynamite,
Couldn’t understand it quite.
Curiosity seldom pays:
It rained Willie seven days.

And another one:

Willie, with a thirst for gore,
Nailed his sister to the door.
Mother said, with humor quaint,
“Now, Willie dear, don’t scratch the paint.”

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