Those angels bold and wise?
They left me when I found them out,
The way they plagiarize.
They slyly flew to pastures new,
Whose farmers are more green
And left me but one thing to do:
Regress toward the mean.
The years trim back our confidence,
We know it’s all been said.
So, better just go take a walk,
Or grab a beer instead.
No comments:
Post a Comment