Economics will innately horde the conscience of us all.
Does a statistician serf not to fall?
Gauging the dawn we plod.
Searching for that convivial moment within the sod.
Gleefully we give homage to that eternal overcast.
Our compulsive appetites, will not allow the indigestion to pass.
A paradox does exist for the savant during these somber times.
Crowned with apathy they do vista us being waned.
Who is arid when the apex bends, or the deftest, for us to send?