They are all over me
above me hovering
like a jet with faulty engine.

They strike
they stall
they poke my bike
I stumble and fall.

I fight
I argue
I tend to claim rights
but two wrongs
can one's life rung
if none concedes 

And so...
I accepted peace 
as if I had been defeated, 
but trouble still looms...
Hovering over me
like a jet with a faulty engine.


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