Been up to my ears,
in alligators, I fears,
and my eyes been,
focused on a dime.

Seems the obligations,
of this life keep growing,
growing and growing.
Like the algae stew,
creates a fine slime.

Doesn't keep me up.
Sleep like a dead duck.
But what the flock,
we're all on borrowed time.

The Olympics are there, too,
jumping channels for a view,
while getting some work done,
maybe, in a time or two.

I'll stick to my guns,
working down to reruns,
and not forget what day it is,
until the next time, my sons.

Don't have any sons, but it makes a nice rhyme.

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Copyright 2021 © Ronald W. Hull

7/29/21

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