You fiddle while you diddle as
You piddle with your feet.
Marking time, making rhyme,
Dilly-bopping on your way.
Finding action in the traction
In the ground beneath your feet,
As the mumble and the rumble
Meet the jumble of the day.
Terrifying, mystifying,
Evil-eying circumstance
Turns to muddle in a puddle
As you cuddle in the dark.
Wistful melancholy thinking
Edges you toward the brinking
As your ship is slowly sinking
And you fail to hit the mark.
But the tide keeps slowly turning
Casting doubt upon the yearning,
Giving way to seeds of learning
That can save you from defeat.
And you keep the rhythm going,
Ever-growing, ever flowing,
Moving forward without knowing
As you’re walking to the beat.
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