I’m troubled. Over this and that. Always something. Maybe
there’s no such thing. As a trouble-free life. The nice thing though. Some of
my troubles go away. In the blink of an eye. Maybe they were imagined. Not real in the
first place. I can buy into that theory. Could be that I pretend to have
troubles. Because I want to fit in. And be like everyone else. Very troubled. Perhaps.
I have mastered the craft. Of inviting trouble. Merely for the heck of it. My.
My. What a troubling thought. --Jim Broede
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