Assumptions (POEM)

See Also: The Autopsy of Assumptions

She told me she was busy,
and the wait made me queasy.
But she wouldn’t come and talk,
I knew I couldn’t just balk.

She said I’ll fill you in,
Said she’s never been busy akin.
But I needed to speak,
Hence the approach I had to tweak.

I needed words certain,
Honest, barring any curtain.
Her absence asked me questions,
Tearing apart my close substance.

There were gaps I needed to fill,
But then she took seemingly ill.
I filled the gaps with deductions,
Which aptly aided my functions.

Things became normal,
Nothing remained formal.
I let loose a deduction,
Was astounded by her reaction.

She balked, she sulked,
Unimpressed with the stories I sculpt,
Finally explaining under compulsion,
Said I made a lot many assumptions.

– Funadrius


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