Sometimes the name they can’t pronounce is the one you were born to carry in reverse.
If I had to change my name, and I mean HAD to
I would smile with practiced grace,
Pour tea into porcelain,
and give ’em something they couldn’t spell.
But not because I’m trying to hide.
If the matter were pressed upon me—
By royal insistence—
Then I’d write it in reverse, quite neatly:
Aseret
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