Dab in the Middle Not a clue, I do not know. Do I pen a letter to Miss Manners, or inquire of dear Aunt Flow? With which spoon do I eat sorbet. and why is that of great import? From outside in I pick my fork. So many rules I must obey. One state, two state, red state, blue state one vote, two vote, red vote, blue vote Demo girls and Repo boys, why does their nonsense rule our fate. Knowing what’s right and proper get’s harder every day. The microwave just beeped, as the newsman tell’s a whopper. My neighbor pilots a Prius, my cousin’s in her Hummer and a bicycle is just peachy for me. From big oil, please just someone free us? I don’t mean to create a flap, but speak my mind I will. But the hour is so very late. Time for this curmudgeon's cookie, milk and nap.
Our path follows us, Knowing that we were never lost, The path of no path. Is it possible to follow someone else to a place only you can go?