That David Hume, he wrote a book,
So I thought I would take a look:
Then all my time it did consume -
He wrote a book, that David Hume
To write his tome, he had no cause,
For skeptical of cause he was:
No he, no self, was there at home,
He had no cause to write this tome
Why read or write, if naught exists?
Yet on and on, the book persists:
A skeptic lacking one insight --
If naught exists, why read or write?
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Published by Beleaguered Servant
Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.
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