Be Wise, My Son
Foolishness is a disease that comes on very slowly.
And without preamble or prejudice.
No cure, Only symptomatic mitigation And the collateral tears.
Affliction of the young, The old The wise The bold, especially.
It cares little for your Hopes and dreams Except to bend Them to it’s ineffable will.
Like a sucker punch, foolishness is impossible to expect. The best you can hope for Is to counter the blow with routine.
Of goodness, Of seriousness Of generosity Of will.
What began as parental illness, Propagated to pandemic And today… Endemic.
Incurable. But it shall Not always be so.
One day, foolishness, which is ever tied up in the heart of a boy, will die with youth.
We will laugh At the foolishness Of Children When we can truly Say we are men.
When we are wise And can see the end from The beginning And so we STOP.
And marvel At how Knowledge applied, Really is wise.
