Wednesday, June 8, 2011


What I thought was Winnerville
Has turned out to be Loserville again
I toiled so hard to get here
To build my house on its poplar lined lanes
Now I see this dusty track
And the shotgun shack I live in
For what they truly are
So I heave my bundle to my shoulder
And sally forth again
When I am old on my deathbed
As my eyes fade I hope I see
Winnerville on the horizon again
Before I set out for that undiscovered country

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