Love conquers all, they say,
But how can that be?
When we adore them both, pray?
These two so close to we.

One prim and taken,
The other blue and elusive-
Two beauties so mistaken,
Hafta pass ’em through this sieve.

How do we discern the truth?
Discover these sages’ needs-
Stop acting uncouth,
Polish up all our deeds?

Flew in not long ago,
this land into-
But our heart to gore,
They seem set to do.

Hafta say we are besought;
Totally confused and wont to bore-
Enigmas that we should sort.
Troubling our soul to the core.

Sweet and oh so fair,
Independent intellectuals-
Can’t you see the care?
That we strive to convert into factuals?

This much is true,
We adore thee-
Never shalt we bid thee adieu.
Trust us, prithee.


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