Fillers

some call it tradition, repeating something because that's just how it is without consideration about changes and others say it is self deception when the ideal is a stretch too wide, cobwebs break apart but lies turn into

It could be like a sore thumb, so obvious and blatant and I rather hide in the bush a place not seen than be displayed on a stage. They eye me carefully,

Gentle does it, ease the wrinkles, too much turbulence is bad, really bad for wires that may get disconnect or that migraine that simply would not go away: and yet statistical data is amiss, not processed, the terms of agreements

A face like mine, a voice like mine, a script like mine and seems like a friend and I cannot tell if this is fiend or a kindred, for I hear both sides, for prosecutor and the defendant's story, each rehearsed till it comes out as quite natural and this is a boon, this is a damnation,

The dice rolls, roll it again because the logic has been squashed, dispelled when life is filled with what fate throws, not the conscious decisions made, like jenga, not like jenga,

I help you navigate away from tiresome have to, it is bothersome even when you act it out, for you know the customer wants something, they may reject with politeness, they may decline with a belligerent attitude,