He let a pregnant pause hang in the air
Then he picked the will, named the heir
The lawyer was a shrewd man, fully bald
As he read on, those bequeathed, bawled.
His dead cunning client sure knew better
Left nil to his son, the gambling bettor
To his sly wife, he gave a wide berth
His daughter too got zilch, the one by birth.
To his stepdaughter, he was somewhat fair
He left her money, enough for bus fare
To his loyal servants; he left his cash
I’m sure you wonder about his gold cache?
Ah well! I thought you would already know
But, I see you shake your head in a ‘NO’
The apiarist could not let it be
He bequeathed his fortune to his prized Bee.
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