beyond all limits you have strained your nerves
there's nothing for it but to get things done
you've told the stories got the concepts spun
avoided all detours and needless swerves
your critics have got what a bastard deserves
it's the key moment you're under the gun
this is the ultimate test the true first run
you're going to unleash all of your reserves
but now the sky's gone cloudy grey and black
the air's gone cold and everywhere is gloom
what could have gone awry at this late hour
it's almost as if you've come under attack
your triumph turned into an early tomb
and all that's sweet has turned nasty and sour
Odd ravings, comments, and other wastes of time. Some are in plain prose, yet others are in rhyme.
20 January 2007
murphy's law
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