I am anxious.
I am wary.
I wondering about the boot
and when it’s gonna drop.
I am worried it’s coming soon
and I’m. It sure I’m prepared.
I am scared.
I am combative.
I know there’s ugliness in its way
and I’m waiting
watching, welling with tension
working my way into
into some state that might be worse
than what’s to come.
But I need to be at fighting trim
because a careful war is winding up
and, as said,
I’m worried.
If I wail every now and then
it’s because I know
it’s coming
soon.