Patience Grasshopper
I don’t give a damn what
you think about what
I think I thought
that am entitled to,
or what is my business.
Motive matters. How are ya
means I fucking care
about you and your problems,
no matter how ya got ‘em.
When you shut me out,
when you will not talk,
when anyone close
informs me just
exactly what the fuck
is and is not my business,
Blood boils, tongues twist,
ears backen, and eyes redden.
Sir, the witness has rights!
Code fucking red. RED!
Read it right. No matter
WHAT! I’m on your side.
Hell, high water, thunder,
fucking flashes of lightning
or the end of my damn sidewalk.
Look both ways and see it as you must,
but I’ve been minding the gaps in this wall for more than 50 years.
I suppose it depends upon what it is applied to and how.
Our Literary Journey 
Oh boy do I feel this one, Bill!
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A bit of emotional outpouring. 🙂 Happy Monday, Dale.
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I felt it so 🙂
Vive les poètes! A way to let it all out 🙂
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Yes. Especially after holding it in for a while. 🙂
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True. No good holding it in.
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It’s amazing the number of times I’ve seen clips of “A Few Good Men” recently. The acceleration of the age of entitlement perhaps!
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I use it a lot imply because my mind goes there.
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