My legs run nowhere as fast as a part of me thinks they should.
I can’t lift as much as I thought I could.
The pains in my joints are unnecessary, so my mind informs me.
And folks around me could be doing a lot more for
me than they are now but no one asks. Its as
if everything I am immersed in is judged
by a part of me to be less than what
is available and another part of
me should take note of this &
invest some instant effort
to catch us the hell up.
Thank you, friend.
Barry out.
A part of me thinks I’m a genius and another part of me thinks that genius thinking part is an arsehole. A big lazy, crybaby, accusatory arsehole.
Then my genius part says Oh Yeah? and the other uh, well, you get the drift.