Sunday, June 24, 2012


“The most you can expect is a kick in the ass,”
the old man said, his gnarled hands firm on my arm
“the world tells you, son, that nothing last
not the hair on your head, not your youthful charms,

“It goes like water running from a cracked dam
and seeps away without the slightest clue
goes and never comes back to your burnt hand
like old tattered pages in the weekly news.

“the answer is there inside of your angry brain
the searching, the finding, the lost and the found
and everything goes with it, even the pain
that a life time seems to perpetually hound

“But child, don’t rush, don’t in a haste
and don’t let one single second go to waste.”

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