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The Godfather

Head held
high he walked
In a very soft
voice he talked

Helped all those
who asked his help
Without giving
much thought to self

An iron fist in a
silk glove was his way
Many a people paid
him homage every day

As days went by his
power increased slowly
One day the city came
under his control wholly

All needed his help
for something or the other
And soon everybody
started calling him Godfather


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The Godfather

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