Time is short no matter how long you have – that’s the truth as I see it. The trees and the sky bid you hello and goodbye; your heart and soul laments, “my my.” You can run through it quick – with a kick, is one way to pass by; missing the roses and Moses, thee’s and those’s – all in your quest to fly high.
Down, sometimes dirty before you’re thirty; youth gone somewhere without repair – age lines, past time – too much good time had by all. Curtain calls as you fall; back upon Mother’s distress breasts. Home again for a blink of love’s caress; singing to high heaven that you didn’t deserve – this! Give me more time – your heart whines; you’ll see I’m not that kind.
But you missed your mark near forty; ancient and old tales make you wail, what’s a mind to do? Let’s talk – me and you, about summer days, sexy ways – of tea gardens and tree houses touching the sky; when I was small and shy. When I knew not the “why” of living. Forgive me again, dear friend, how I must seem to be ungrateful – though not the case. I just couldn’t help myself. There was just too much to taste.
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