Don'T Worry. Poem by Michael Gale

No need to fiddle....
With thoughts about the middle.

Thoughts of a meandering stress....
Of things met with nothing but an all
encompassing, mess.

You say You are not someone else's rug be tread? ...
To be digested or leached upon until wasted, dead.

Do not worry....
Only scurry.

To a safe place far and away...
So that in the end, We might
smile and sway.

Sway freer in the wind
or currents be....
Forever not worrying, or even
now, finally at last, peacefully free.

Free from anxiety...
Or unenlightening piety!