shoulda woulda coulda... excuse the cliché...

i dunno if this poem works, the choice of words is... well... dunno, too much?

am not trying to be smug or anything, but i dunno, maybe i was that pissed off at myself while writing it...

anyway

here goes...

Entropy

Should I trust the movement,

Or the thought of it?

Down in the pits of my apparatus

No amount of good will

Seems to get me through the fear

Should I trust the circumstance,

Or the lack of it?

Back in the days of clumsy ardor

No cares were sufficient to steal

The rush of a good thrill…

Should I trust the movement,

Or the beginning of it?

Dodging apathy

Embracing entropy

Relying on a thread

To pull out the chill