The RNA Poem 

On a cold 4am I ruminate

About personal hell & prisons among other things

If bad times in a sequence align

That would be my perfect intron defined

Also if all your happy days become exons
Wouldn’t you kill to be the master of splice?
But life aint replete with that kind of choice
Left us with a silly dance of nucleotides

But it’s your life. So Transcript and translate.
Screw how some haters decide to mutate!

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