Brain strain

The human brain is curious about its own existence, but not yet clever enough to get at the answers. Well, mine isn’t, anyway.

What on earth is the use of a brain
Which, whenever it tries to explain
What reality is,
Gets itself in a tizz?
Still, I s’pose I ought not to complain.

It’s stuck with the inputs it’s got:
Five senses, that’s all; not a lot.
Just touch, taste and smell,
Sight and hearing as well.
Oh, and memory, too – I forgot!

But they’re simply not nearly enough
To be able to handle such stuff
As  “Can time ever stop?”
Or “Does space have a top?”
My brain cannot know – and that’s tough.

But it knows that admitting defeat
Wouldn’t help the poor thing to compete.
So, to keep me alive,
It tries hard to survive
With a world-view that’s quite incomplete.

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