Posted by trip (18.104.22.168) on January 24, 2002 at 20:00:03:
to write this dribble,, and you young punks have to read it (har har ha ha).Charlie made me write this ,back in september,,,
Where do summers go when
Did this one slide under and out the door,
like the beach sand filtered in
slowly all summer
grain by grain
If my summers were grains of sand
it would be but a pinch,
...not much for a life of a man.
I should hold each one
As if it were gold.
Life's real mother lode
I lived six summers befor I could swim,
I thought that forever back then
Ten more and I could drive,
I was never so much alive
They past so slow back then...
I was twenty ,when the beast joined in,
Now I know he'll never win.
I count out fifty grains of sand’
Then put them in the palm of my hand
Then let them fall out.
All but one,
September has begun-------
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