Found this poem on the fridge – it dates from just after the Precambrian (or Lower 6th, as we used to call it)


By nature imperfect
They strive for perfection
On a pear-shaped planet
They strive to be global
They wage their wars
In pursuit of peace
They draw new boundaries
And cry out for unity
They create new barriers
And seek equality
They build new prisons
And make freedom their goal
Life is their ideal
But their days are numbered
And all around
The universe laughs