I'm not in rush

I'm not in rush.
I'm not in rush,
I'm a lad dressed in plush,
Journeying on a mush,
Diagonised for thrush,
Striving for survival in the slush,
Appalled with an impromptu hush.
My moves are steady and in gush,
I'm close to the berth, so say my cush,
I've perforated my way through the mush,
I've forseen my livelihood in lush,
I'm not in rush.
© Abduljabarr Mahabub
©