We sit inside our man-made havens,
Preferring to act unaware and undeterred.
Black is not white nor can it never be,
For that would be a world reversely turned.

We drink in only the logical, Leaving
Our thirst for truth parched and dry.
For and outcome undefined would never do,
So we decide not to try.

If by living a live of oblivion,
Following the “right” path all the while,
Yet North in fact turns out to be East,
Shouldn’t logic itself be put on trial.