john | March 13, 2021, 2:12 a.m.
How foolish you must be. Not because of who you are, but who you should be.
I don't know why I do certain things, perhaps to test or see. But my friend, you where foolish with me. You presume, you're preposterous, you take jest in bad form.
It saddens my thoughts that you so felt it to be. Because my friend, how foolish you must be.
I fault you not, for I have been foolish myself. But I must confess, not to this mess, how foolish you be. It feels nice in form, to put a rhythm into thought. It nonetheless does not stop the foolishness in thee.
The fool does not know, the foolishness he see's, is all in bad form. For it is he who must see, how foolish he be.
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