Poetry |
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I made it ...to the year of '99.
No aches or pains. I feel just fine. Sure, those years of youth I miss. Now, I must get up at night to put out the light that I forgot 'cause I can't recall, did I or not? My eyes don't see as well, I guess. My pace has become a little less. I can't chase the girls as I did before in the old days, those days of yore. I could create some awkwardness, like the ad for American Express. If I should catch just one or two, I'd stop to ask then,"What will I do?"
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