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!

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!
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