press 67 or flag or infinite 67
Sixty-seven strutted in, A prime with too much pride, Telling all the other numbers, “Step aside—enjoy the ride.” It boasted to the evens, “You’ll never divide me!” The evens rolled their eyes and said, “Yeah, buddy, we’ll let you be.” It winked at 66 smugly— “I’m one more and way more cool.” But 66 just sipped its coffee, Thinking, “This guy… is a fool.” Sixty-eight tried to reason: “We’re neighbors—let’s be friends.” But 67 said, “I’m PRIME royalty. Our bond just… never blends.” One day, the number line complained, “We’re tired of your sass. Stop bragging about being prime And get to math class!” But 67 kept swaggering, A legend, bold and weird, The only number in the room With a self-important beard. So if you meet this number, Just smile, nod, and wave, For 67 is harmless— Just dramatically brave. And though it loves attention (seriously… all the time), We still adore this quirky friend, Our overconfident prime.
