To suppose that it would or would would not be,
would also be of no consideration if we’re left up to me
The choices to be choose, if one were to be chosen
Pre disposed, as if I was supposed to translate an illusion
Not always to be understood or to understand
It just my my way, my muse, and not always a plan
So if I voice undirectional, of a seemingly derisive direction
It may just be the moment, my statements not meant,
with any preconceived intention
Often just a ramble or just some babble, for my amusement,
that I might share
My own entertainment, sometimes given out,
it’s just my affair