The Song of the Jammin Jong

A frayed nerve and a little spat My mind running away with all that The children’s quibble grows louder in wrath My nose tells me the damn dog needs a bath

A quite corner, some personal space I kick off my shoes and extend my embrace Something goes up and something goes down My mind like a wheel goes round and round

Want to read more?

Subscribe to thewayofintent.com to keep reading this exclusive post.

Subscribe Now