Certain decisions have been reached,
the words I hereby stitch,
in many ways, a shirt, for this new issue.
Though each morning I practiced
one of the seven habits
of the highly effective,
I fabulously failed,
I grazed on doubt,
I thought by thinking of myself infallible
my station would not fall,
forever floating like a bottled ship.
While I was an object to shower waters
I kept reshuffling words
in shifting order, then I just
spat them out and they hung
like fat nubilous drops.
Some fresh, profound statement,