My lord told me to write this
I told him I'd do it fast
but one thing after another came up
and........

(Three days later)

My chore is made of toyle
my back is full of pain
so I sit here contemplating of all
sorts of fame......

(Three more days)

I have started writing this degree
my pen did mightily swong
but when I finally read it I realized it was not
done.....
(thirty years pass)

As I sit here in the dungeon
and ponder of my mistakes,
the reason for my trouble
and all of my bad brakes.


I remember of my lord and how the poem was to be
but when I sit down to write it
something comes over me....

Penned by my hand on the 24th of Khepary, in the year 111 MA.