Virtue and vice
Fuck. why?
Hear ye in thrice! on virtue and vice, what’s naughty’s not nice.
Each day just a test, if we put evils to rest, and act in our best.
Vices insecure, where virtues are pure. What is what, surely, I’m unsure.
P.S. By some strange intuition while writing on this subject, everything kept rhyming. So I just said fuck it and made it into a poem on the cadence of my affectionate digit of three. I do, however, have much more to say on virtue and vice than just a silly poem.