So I write to you.
But what good do words do?
Between me and you.
Some find comfort in a song.
Where do I belong?
How can I be so wrong?
I love words when they are good.
Perhaps a joke, touch wood.
Are my words made of mud?
After the flood.
Its better to be doing something than nothing, so they say.
Passing time away.
What have I to say?
Not much today.
God, what should I do?
Talk to you.
So I do.
I’m trying to find out what its all about.
When I find out I’ll let you know.
So on I go.
I’ll give you a clue.
Its up to you.
Me too.
Tich Ennis
21st June, 2018