The Clue Paradox

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In my own grand manor, the game has begun,

A board of secrets under the sun.

The questions linger, the suspects stand tall,

A tangled web where the shadows fall.

Was it the Colonel, with his lead pipe's might?

Or was it me, hiding from the light?


Each day's a new room, a puzzle to solve,

A web of choices where my own fates evolve.

My mind is a detective, searching for truth,

Following faint whispers from my youth.

For if I don't think, I get lost in the haze,

A victim of ignorance, in life's tangled maze.

I know this well: If I don't think, I won't get a clue.


But then the paradox, it hit me one day,

A different clue, in a completely new way.

The Clue box sat there, on a forgotten shelf,

The answer to the puzzle was just to get it myself.

To hold the solution, the cards, and the dice,

I needed no theory, no motive, no vice.

I simply had to take it, a simple decree,

The game was right there for my eyes to see.

And in that moment: If I don't think, I'll get a clue.


So here is the caution, a thought to keep true,

For those who seek answers and mysteries new.

To think is to find the right path to the end,

But overthinking can bend, and break, and rend.

So let not the puzzle become all you see,

Lest you miss the simple clue that sets you free.

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