The mother of invention lies asleep
and sated yet again beside the fire
It’s no surprise she should so quickly tire
Restrained by offspring turning us to sheep

Our need to overcome, explained, expires
And we , too tired to weep, feign boundless joy
For what we’ve lost and gained - each wretched toy
We keep can strangle resource in its wires

And rendered gutless, idle hoi polloi
we stagger dumbly higher, grinning, keep
believing we could buoy her from her sleep
Ignite her brain, and our minds re-deploy.