The Philosopher’s Love Song

The Philosopher’s Love Song

You find it far too abstract
But to me, it’s rather plain
You think it’s all a waste of time
But I don’t feel the same
I’m putting on my thinking cap
you’re giving me that look;
Let’s get metaphysical, again.

You say you love me truly,
But Darling, can’t you see
without formal definition
What use is that to me?
Are you following Aristotle?
Or does Plato take your shine?
Let’s get metaphysical, again.

If you’re following Aristotle,
of course you must agree
Love consists of wishing me goodness,
Just because it’s me
Or if you feel Platonic,
Is that as far as it goes?
Let’s get metaphysical, again.

You say you know you need me,
but how can you be sure?
Is knowledge Justified True Belief,
or is it something more?
If not, how can you ever know
that your belief is true?
Let’s get metaphysical, again.

My Dear, you say that every day,
You love me more and more.
But Oh, my dearest, can’t you see
Of that you can’t be sure.
For your emotions are internal,
No scale can mark them out
Let’s get metaphysical, again.

Your Love for me’s increased from naught
To where it is today
But without external reference,
can you know where you are on the way?
You could yet be ten thousand miles,
from where true love is at.
Let’s get metaphysical, again.

You say you couldn’t leave me;
Of this I am in doubt.
You’re determinism’s too simple,
You haven’t thought it out
What precisely does prevent you,
I really cannot see;
Let’s get metaphysical, again.

Are your actions just the product
Of a simple causal chain?
Or do you think your wants are fixed
But you’re free to choose betwain.
If you don’t agree with the first statement
That I’ve put in this verse; though I concede that
an agreement with the second would not entirely
invalidate it, then I’m afraid the statement referenced
at the top of the verse before this one is illogical and inconsistent,
by your own admission, Dear.
Let’s get Metaphysical, again.

I think it’s all quite certain,
you really are not sure.
I’m picking up my textbooks,
You’re walking out the door.
I’d thank you for the time we’ve had,
but is time really real?
It’s all gone Metaphysical, Again.

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