Science Poem by Raymond Farrell

There are times
When this tool
With its razor sharp blade
That cuts with
Objective precision
Is the one I need
To employ
In order
To discern
What the solution is
But occasionally
When I go to look
For it
It has been
Misplaced
Or commandeered
By another
With an agenda
Using it
As a hack saw
Or wielding it
Like an axe
Or even
A sledge hammer
Trying
In one fell swoop
To batter down
A wall of ignorance
When precision and grace
And a well applied
Stroke
Would do a better job
Without inflicting
Social casualties
But there are times
Standing by the bier
Or looking at
The heaving masses
Of humanity
Struggling to survive
This is not
The tool I need
For empathy and grace
Understanding and love
Do no come
From wielding a blade
Sharp and precise
But cold as steel
That divides spirit and body
And mind
Asunder
And applies truth
Unwisely
As a weapon.