I’m proud of direction, and to say when I’m had –
But too much protection is the good turning bad.
Professionally speaking, a change is a must;
But a job full of acting is my boom going bust.
My inner child’s wreaking of unwanted truth,
But this nosy kid’s seeking, aware of his youth.
Frost is collecting on my now withered soul,
Engaged to be willing but no gifts to extol.
Thought to be grateful and a will to be served –
But looks to be sifted aren’t too well preserved;
A blank army glare that’s just riled with hate,
But much of that stare is just portentous fate.
It’s a monopoly game where most of the cards
Send fortune or shame to our fifty glass chards.
But the rhythm lays diced in that bland harmony,
And the time before Christ sees Anno Domini.
So a life of production and working real hard
Shall give way to friction and an icebreaker scarred;
But many a break to be had nowadays –
Without much at stake, a discerning brown haze…
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