Dear Friends,
Idealists often think in goals a priori,
That ideas will tell us the whole story,
By factors of twelves,
Because its happened so often in history.
Chicken little was an idealist,
Racing around head in mist,
Apocalypse does loom,
Until knocked out by reality’s fist.
Comparing oneself to others is a suckers bet,
Looking down at others being a teachers pet,
Whether one’s rich or poor,
Treating differently is a boor,
Because everyone has a part and is well met.
There once was a frat boy Keir,
A college chum and a bit queer,
He likes to hear debates,
And whenever his past comes near.
There once was a company called Google,
Claiming to be good and politically neutral,
Couldn’t silence the right,
Showing us all they didn’t have any scruple.
Sincerely,
John Pepin
