The miracle that's you,
Your ability to look at the sky,
And recognize the moon,
Then reflect on its distance from the Earth,
If it really exists,
Or if it's perhaps, maybe all a dream,
Which ain't the primary question, is it?
It's that you can ask the question at all,
Like, who else can do that?
Even reading this you cannot be sure,
If you don't smell a rat.
The rat is you,
Who knows what is out there,
It's all a backdrop for your amusement,
Or for your complete and utter despair.
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