Do you still grue
For tomorrow or is it your yesterdays you rue
Or find intimidating? Don’t go through
All the dark times again. It’s a flu
Of the mind, ruminating. If you blew
Your nose more often and looked away from your shoe
You would see that the sky is blue
Right here, right now, coo coo ca choo
It’s true
And you already knew,
But I would still spew
These trivialities at you
Even if you withdrew
All the way to Timbuktu
Even on the loo
I will find you
To remind you
That when you were two
You wanted to be a kangaroo
When you grew
up. And you might say: ‘Screw
That. It was a stupid dream.’ But I dream too
The stupid dream that one day you
Will learn to be here,
In the now
With me.
A Bolg? 