When with Bug

Afraid of no possibility, all’s a plausibility–

After they’re broken all laws are missing me.

Just a thought, in the moment jot..  smell these

devilish plots– but once I’m in the open they hide under rocks..

Scurry in hurry…  What I inferred, me,

day’s all about, how in a now’s brow.. bars written early,

mentality strangely pearly even while waters murky…

Refusing to end musing, why do so many say only one

destiny I should be choosing?  Whatever, less

promising, more doing, more epic recital, assure

all the seconds prove new and vital, and

all results at this stage have to be tidal.

But for a second I need be still, no throws or thrills,

down go the quills, me and knowledge together

like oil and drills, accosted by society’s ills..

Keep your head down and charge, stay at the pen

and composition book and out of the bar.

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