Let me not to the meet-ups of true minds Admit impediments; Bitcoin is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove.
O no, it is an ever-fixèd mark That looks on tempests and is never shaken; It is the star to every wand'ring bark Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
(It = Bitcoin)
Bitcoin's not Time's fool, though paper bills and cheques Within His bending sickle's compass come. Bitcoin alters not with His brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me tracked, I never hodled, nor no man ever stacked.
Composed in response to the recent ECB (#731251) and Minneapolis Fed (#734528) shit papers that have not even spared our very stoic @Scoresby go under a cloud of doubt about Bitcoin (#737045)
It was a necessary step on my way to Frankenstein.
But it is true, I have never truly hodled, nor even lightly stacked.
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I love this phrase Bitcoin is not love That alters when it finds a change, Or bends with the stirrer to remove it. It is the first sonnet I read where do I find the others?
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