*flu* ]David's Ps 23rd with the modern reality twist.
I am my own shephard. I am always in need.
I stumble from mall to mall and shrink to shrink,
seeking relief but never finding it.
I creep through the valley of the shadow of death and fall apart.
I fear everything from pesticides to power lines,
and i'm starting to act like my mother.
I go down to the weekly staff metting and am surrounded by enemies.
I go home, and even my goldfish scrowls at me.
I annoint my headache with extra-strength Panadol.
My Jack Daniel's runneth over me.
Surely misery and misfortune will follow me,
and I will live in self-doubt for the rest of my life.
i am guilty of being my own shephard too lots of times.
adapted again from traveling light..
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