In one of the houses
That stand in our street
Lived doubting Foma
Whom we often did meet
Whatever they told him
At home or at school
He never believed them
For that was his rule
It’s raining and hailing
And slushy today
Put on your galoshes
His mother would say
I do not believe it
And straight down the street
He’d walk through the puddles
With soaking wet feet
Once on an excursion
He went to a zoo
They told him
Now that is a new kangaroo
I do not believe it
Foma said with an air
I think it is simply
An overgrown hare!
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