
The budding poet soon suspects
The pointlessness of: Solve for x
The budding poet soon suspects
The pointlessness of: Solve for x
Those folks who claim the Earth is flat
Can’t tell us where the edge is at
Perhaps a flat brain can’t absorb
As much as one shaped like an orb
When Alexander Graham Bell
Phoned Mr Watson he knew well
The pair of friends would make a killing
By next inventing monthly billing
The rule for fractions when you’re young?
It’s two-thirds’ brains
And one-third tongue
The brains behind the pencil
Made his mark which we commend
But smarter still’s his wife
Who stuck a rubber on the end
Imagine sitting by a lake
And wondering what it would take
To calculate its area
The formula would scare ya.
Or fancy while beneath a tree
You’re struck by thoughts of gravity
Quite tough with which to grapple
Whilst snacking on an apple.
Or say you’re watching tortoises
When what you start to notice is
Through lack of adaptation
They face annihilation.
Imagine peering into space
Amazed how it all hangs in place
Then arguing dark matter
Might make the cosmos scatter.
Great minds considered these and more
From ancient Greece to Ecuador
This group of geeks is quite well-versed
At sorting out our universe.
What theorem might I devise?
Am I not wise? There is some doubt
For I’ve just only realised
You close the fridge, the light goes out…