Walk softly, regret - walk past me,
don’t stop here, regret - nothing to see.
Move on sadness - I am not that strong,
I haven’t the strength, to take you along.
My journey, on this path, laid with thorns,
prompted me, to take a bull by the horns!
I looked at him, straight in the eye,
and demanded, he, “carry me - or die!”
He is a fickle creature - you dare not follow,
if you get too close - he will gore you hollow.
Me, he has accepted, as his burden to carry,
add one bit more, and things could get scary.
Surely, you don’t expect me, to give a f-‘eck -
with my arms, so precariously, around this bull’s neck?
~Sabrina Burum
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