Every line we write, for its truth, is revenged...by the powers. Tae feel the pain. Yea, ye know...but as twas said, it is the word, ye must deal wee now, and his time has come.
So, we may be his whipping boy...his tongue for a day or two, an hour even, mayhap, but a word...tae ye, that at least, we will nae be...pretend, a 'written over' rot or bumper sticker.
If that is nae fine, at least...it is plain. Ye must list to that, ye di' na wish tae listen tae. Be thankful, it is not a strap.
Written by Bruce James Clyde 2017, at Deming, New Mexico
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