The Theorist

I wrote this poem in the wee hours of the morn (you know, when you head to bed kinda needing to go but you think it can wait but then you wake up because it can’t) after conversations with two friends about a number of topics, most of which were conspiracy theories.


Unwittingly wise with worried beliefs
Be wary when views come nightly as thieves.
Hold your harmless lust for knowledge higher
And hope humble truth soothes all the desire,
Lest lascivite infections loose your grip,
Logic’s lost, and sanity’s seen to slip.

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