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At the edge of the city where the apartments stood tall,
Lived a Grinch who despised their lights and their halls.
He scowled at their laughter, their joy, and their cheer,
And plotted to swipe all their festivity gear.
With a sack and a smirk, he crept in with ease,
“Tonight, I’ll take all their packages, it’s a breeze!”
But as he approached the first door with glee,
The Grinch heard a sound — what could it be?
A voice bombed out, firm and secure,
“You’re being watched and recorded it seems.”
It was Cloudastructure, with AI so keen,
That it saw through his costume and sly, fiendish scheme.
The Grinch froze in place, caught red-handed at last,
The remote guard’s warning made him rethink fast.
He fled the complex, his sack empty and bare,
Foiled by smart tech that was always aware.
And though he still hated their noise and their song,
He dared not return — Cloudastructure was strong.
So the residents slept, with their gifts and their cheer,
Protected by tech, throughout the year.
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