Stallions yearn to run
Unteathered and unburdened
‘Cross unending amber land.
~
Yet it’s hard to roam
Once broke to yoke or saddle.
Bitter truth for horse and man.
service
In the Vice of Life
They all want a piece of you,
Their own fragment of your life.
Your boss, your kids,
Your friends, your wife.
In the face of such demands
Are you surprised to find some strife?
But is there any real recourse;
Some simple way to make some space,
Some quiet time to breathe, of course,
A moment to escape the pace?
Choose not to bathe? Smell like a horse?
Would they fly away, post-haste?
Since it’s no fun to live alone,
Accept your time is not your own!
Bureau of Obfuscation
Is it the intent
of public policy wonks
to gum up the works,
to discourage service use,
or is that benefit fringe?
Aroil in Pain 