I was in control, sure, moving at my pace.
Everything I did was done with some precision.
I was comfortable.
Organised, prepared, in my little square.
Time wasn’t flashing by.
Then you came along,
New things, new routine, time sped up, things reshaped.
I was irritated.
You didn’t ask for permission.
You were now calling the shots.
All my work, energy spend putting things in order,
Things had to be done your way.
Did you stop to see how they were done before you arrived?
Did you ask what we thought of your methods before you went ahead insisting everyone follow your ways?
There’s is no flavour in anything I do.
Fragments of order scattered around me.