If fools rush in where angels fear to tread[1]
Then I walk not on any hallowed ground.
No wings, but dunce’s cap I wear instead
And blindly walk in circles, ‘round and ‘round.
But foolishness is not an idle life
If playfulness trumps sternly furrowed brows
For lightened hearts do temper cruel strife
And in a frightened state, can courage rouse.
For one man’s fool is yet another’s sage
As wisdom often does appear aloof
The seriousness of this still too-grave age
Requires fools as sheer survival’s proof.
If fools take risks, let chance our minds inspire
For what we risk reveals our hearts’ desires.
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