Finite space, infinite perspectives,
Finite time, infinite objectives.
Dots they were of different shapes and sizes,
Outliers and exceptions that went through crisis.
With a little bias here and there,
Countered by nudges to make them fair.
Models and planes and thoughts in train,
Those dots they went through a million frames.
Passion merged with perfection,
Ideas organized on reflection.
Those dots were now all connected,
Thanks to the teachers we respected.
Those suggestions and ideas were mine to keep,
I took them home and went to sleep.
Yet when I woke up, oh so geared,
Three little dots had suddenly appeared.
From the pool of infinity,
Those dots, with no seeming proclivity.
I smiled and counted one two three,
Celebrated that my brain was alive.
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