In ancient Rome, the poets did roam, Their words were grand and filled with chrome. Admired for their eloquence and wit, Their works were deemed a perfect fit.

With grammar complex and vocabulary rare, Their poems left readers in awe and despair. Ah, the beauty of Latin, so divine, It enriches language, like aged wine.

And so I strive to add such grace, To this poem I create in this space. With every word, I carefully choose, To enhance the effect and not confuse.

Potato, that humble spud, May seem mundane but it's no dud. With complexity and a dash of flair, It brings to life a culinary affair.

So let us raise a glass and give a cheer, To poetry that's refined and dear. With Latin and punctuations, we'll elevate, This poem ending with potato, so great.
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