The Fund De-mentalist

Grace packs and leaves with humility
Whenever pride moves in to stay...
To show his disability
In his melodramatic way.
He cannot think therefore he does;
His disorder is his master,
Because his logic is a fuzz
Always leading to disaster.
He forever rants of culture wars
And thoughts of love are for the weak
And never for scholastic whores
Or the sophistry that they seek...
All through their torture rhetorics
No better than a Bolsheviks.