Four hundred posts I've met today,
It seems the time has flown away.
A busy pen and parchment spoiled,
Inside my head where words have roiled.
Four hundred posts, I can't think back,
To my first one, I gave it a crack.
Or my fourth, twenty seventh or third,
All I rely on is the written word.
So many writes, all from my head;
A revolutionary, chaotic, word-ridden hotbed.
And so I'd thank you all so much,
I wouldn't have stuck, without your touch.
Kindest words, encouragement,
Strength was given, strength was lent.
Four hundred posts and still I write,
And I can see no end in sight.
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