the daily poem.

God only knows when the whole thing began, 
but their was a time,
when I had a life,
and I worked to support the idea of living.

somewhere along the line,
the most important thing to me,
became the idea 
that the playing with words,
seemed the only thing that was important,
but I still have to work,
to support my habit
of playing with words.

I hate when that happens.

So it goes.
​Press on regardless.