It's Early Don't Get Squirrely!

Google doesn't like it when I type squirrely out. They think the word isn't out and about. Or would that be in and not about? Beats me, that was a previous shout. Now on we go with a new flow.

Early or late.
That same old fate.
Fate to be dead.
Sorry to put that in your head.

Only true fate.
Whoops, did it again, mate.
Early or late.
Only thing for sure on plate.

They also say taxes.
Not for the bum that relaxes.
The ones that don't pay.
They may get a jail stay.

Forget that.
Curse the cat.
But let it go.
Sing in the snow.

Might be cold.
Things aren't bold.
Watch your foothold.
Whoops, death is sold.

Into it early.
You got squirrely.
Or not like Google.
Did you oogle?

Whoops, you did.
Caught by a squid.
Off into the sea.
Early one by thee.

But you didn't know.
Cold or squid foe.
You had no clue.
That is also true.

So truth makes fail,
Even when hitting death's trail.
Can you hit the trail?
That is another fail.

The path you pave.
Can rant and can rave.
Unless a dirt hole you save,
Can't go into an early grave.

Ever think about that? How that expression kind of falls flat? Do people just have a grave dug waiting for them somewhere? How can a grave be early or late at ones lair? Who gets buried anymore anyway? Don't many just get burnt away? Is it too early for such a question mass? I hope you weren't sent to an early...late...whatever grave by my little rhyming ass.

Experience spring, have a fling.