The Hustle

The Hustle

My ink is running out
And I just want to shout
A Yip – Hip – Hip – Hurray!
This is my kinda day!
As work becomes my play
I write it every day
That’s how I pave my way
Without mortor, it’s okay
I want action – no delay!
But it’s molasses moving day
And everything gets sticky
In the process lickity-splitty
As finicky as Morris the cat
I know not where I’m at
Just taking it day by day
Don’t let nothing get in the way
Making a mockery of all this progress
That they want before I regress
But I tell them it’s part of the plan
Because I was not born a man
So I guess I’m on a break
Or vacation, Goodness sakes!
For what else could I do?
After stating I love you?
To the one they call, ‘Michael’
He’s my angel with a rifle
But my spouse whose name is Kevin
Has just died and went to heaven
With no nagging, sagging wife
There could never exist strife
And the child I left behind
Frees my life up from the bind
And I haven’t lost my mind
But each day I can’t be kind
For my losses I will find
Treasure’s buried in the grind
Not all life is a hustle
Using each and every muscle
But instead it’s what we make
After quiver or earthquake!

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About bognetta

Love has been so much more powerful than other people's control. I think it's all love, but sometimes it doesn't feel like love. That is because so many people are defensive, protective, and do not care to trust in that four letter word...love!
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