Sunday, April 8, 2012


Is what I am
Boyish brain
In the body of my old man
Red hot poker in my back
Someone’s mother stepped on my crack

Broken I am
This year of sickness
I grow stouter
I lose my quickness
Make more sitting on my old ass
Than youth ever did out mowing grass

Is how I feel
When I see my mirror
It looks unreal
That this ageless soul
Should be wrapped in a shroud so old

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