"Tell me", demanded the string, in fury
To the physicist working on his theory,
"Why must I always behave and dress ideal,
But never deviate, like my friends in real?
Why must you label my slim length massless?
I am friends with Higgs boson, by God's grace
Why can I not slip and slide
And go over the pulley for a long ride,
Why am I always forced to balance
A man, a block or a monkey, by chance?
And even if I snap due to excessive tension,
The falling block is your gold, me - no attention
Why can't I stay in your free body diagrams,
Have some inertia, weigh a few kilograms,
Make some complex coiling dynamic motion
Asking for rotational treatment in this notion?"
The physicist scratched his head
And the bulb lit up bright red,
"Say no more, I got exactly what you want
From today, you will no longer be called blunt.
The quarks will divide and coil, twist, knot
Open and closed, loops and branes; and what not!
The fundamental forces will be down at your feet,
String theory will be a new tale in an 11-D sheet."

- Narcissist_Narcotic