Strides and terpiculation

Okay. So. Here I am on my last day, in a way.

I’ve been writing about a lot of people and things,

Somewhat in code.

Maybe I don’t remember exactly what or why,

Or even, perhaps.

Balance is probably the greatest gift,

If it can be achieved, at something greater,

Which takes just that, and give,

So maybe I’ve fucked it up a lot,

Proverbially, to speak,

And maybe I’ve been weak.

But truly I can say to you, I’ve done most of it before,

And maybe God is not the devil, or work not just a bore,

But when I get up each day again,

I’d say my most powerful gift,

Is the weapon of the pen.

Yet maybe it’s a gift to write, in English or other tongue,

And maybe if I play it back right through,

I’ll have simmered down again.