I sit down on my wise pillow, as all wise men do, and I wisely ring my bell of wisdom, it is time to be a wise man
3 Foolish men come into my house of wisdom
the first man says, Wise Man, tell me, what is the problem of the world
I wisely sit and wonder, and I wisely respond with
"Small hard to read text"
He is dumbfounded, he goes back to his home and sacrifices the 6 best of his herd,
he is made from a Fool into a Scholar that day
The second man approaches me, an agitator such as he is glaringly obvious by his foolish stench and tightly clutched funko pop
He says to me, heart full of malice
"Wise man, if you're so wise then why haven't you solved all war"
I do not regard him, nor do I open my eyes, it would be unheavenly for me to do so
I simply mandate "That is because it is not real"
Beads of greasy sweat pierce down his face, he begins to hyperventilate,
he goes to run only to find he has no legs, horrified he clutches his face to scream,
But nothing comes out
All that remains to tell the tale of his once fed existence is a half melted funko pop drenched in sweat
the third foolish man comes in, he has a strong air about him, and looks at me with an almost fatherly look of discernment
"Playing with dolls again son?"
I sit their, awestruck, I look down at my destroyed funko pop sitting in a glass of water, and gutted sheep plushies
The horror dawns upon me, there were no fools to see me, and no wise man sat down that day
The true fool was me all along
