Before you go a pondering, on those things that come to pass. Remember, you're not Alice and this ain't the looking glass.
Now let me tell you something before you go a hittin that lil bottle. I sure as **** ain't Socrates and you're not Aristotle.
But for you to think that you have discovered something new. To relish in your narcissistic belief you have a clue?
Well that right there just proves my point, you ain't discovered ****. Now crawl back up on your mommas lap and get back on that ***.
By reading this poem you (the reader) hereby forfeit any and all rights to bear arms. If you have a pair of bear arms. We request you return them to your nearest armless bear. Honestly, what is wrong with you.