Was I such a jostler when young?
I guess so, I am afraid.
A know it all by youth,
well grades in school test.
My diaries, a testament of the young breed.
How do they say it?
Wash your hands, we take care of the rest?
Indeed, indeed.
Can I say, it's the best,
to come to my terms,
in taking them back?
To what, to find peace?
This younger me,
marched into rooms,
confident,
angry,
reaching the so called collective!
I did a really good job, did I?
My terms of that past,
made it to the present,
Oh, so effective!
And I, meanwhile,
If I could,
I would,
take them back.
The fool points a finger
right at me,
shaking with laughter.
Oh well. Shit happens.
No taking terms back ever after.
Have you noticed?
Have you come to your terms?
And will you keep silent,
from now on?
I am afraid, no.
You'll go on with your flow.
And so will I,
Using my churns.