The old man had his ideas, clasped firm like bus fare
I complimented his wisdom but no offer to share
Two opposing notions with nothing in the middle
Picking hotly at my brain like sausages on the griddle
He said there was no way to help with my impasse
Suggesting I divide them and weigh the atomic mass
Use science to evaluate each idea’s lofty merits
Under the microscope to count the many karats
I kept after the old man, he needed to share
Pleasantries and civility turned to open warfare
Clashing of ideas was that roaring loud sound
No compromise as each stood our own ground
You’re entrenched we screamed at each other
He scolded me like a domineering mother
I pushed back because naturally I was right
He loaded the ideas, ready to ramp the fight
Neither of us gave thought to backing down
Anyone to do so would appear to be a clown
You fight to the death for God and position
Winning is simply by a battle of attrition
I listened not to his various arguments
Instead reloading my verbal armaments
Only one of us could leave the boxing ring
This intellectual firefight scorched everything
Ticket 2 Ride 