We who do travel over phone lines to other worlds

Do sometimes find we have found quite little pearls

Of wisdom, and sometimes there's founts of knowledge

But really - it's just simple reading to eat like porridge



Some can be smart and funny and clever, but quite a bit

Is ridiculous, for it reflects minds which do not tick

With rhythm or melody, or any kind of calm harmony

For those who write it are dealing with a monotony



Which appears in their written work, and also in Chat

For they are stuck in the mud, which shows all that

They are limited in their ability to communicate

For they take cheap shots as they pontificate



The meaning of love, and the meaning of life

And think they have got a true grasp, as fife

Is played in mellow tones which have no lilt

For their music is corrupt with a warped stilt



When you start dealing with matters of the mind

Know everything which happens, happens in a kind

Of balance which allows all things to have an end

So please do involve yourself in reading to blend



Your own ability to comprehend all you find here

With emotions which may make you smile, or bring tears

For everything from this pen starts in a clever mind

Which is steeped in deep feelings of love for mankind.



- Tristram