I build conclusions slowly, with grave care,
After a series of more minor claims;
I cannot, with an incandescent air,
Toss off a simple proof of complex aims
And call it good without that stout foundation
On which my mind relies to make all good.
I thrive in simplifying complication
Using the only way I ever could:
A detailed close analysis of facts
Based in a microscopic understanding
Of words and their accompanying acts,
Of which my inquisition is demanding.
But jumping to conclusions? That's not me;
It isn't how I face reality.
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