What if I am Inconpetent
poetic scribble by Bob Axell 2009


You dare redeem me, when I breath easy
My world is magic, my room is sleazy
I see the sea, see, out by the neat wheat
Fields of green fleets, sail, out and away

You dare concieve me, without complete beat
I lack my moral trust, I lack my meaning
How was the beta, the test, the screening
Or did you give me away, without a fair okay