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  • Pitstop III

    2009 - 01.01

    Well I have to tell you my friends

    First no one thought I’d make twenty one

    Then I decided that the best retitirement plan was to die before thirty

    And here I still am, so much has changed for me.

    My hair is silver /grey and for the time being long and flowing.

    But my forehead became a fivehead

    As my receding hairline mocked my wish for eternal youth.

    I think “Wait a minute I’m still young”

    But I’m not.

    Time and its relentless hourglass has run on me

    While I was passing the time living in dreams and having adventures.

    At least I beat my Dad by 16 years, but I know what congenital means

    It means I’m doomed and must write as much as I can before  that day of reckoning.

    Life could have been better to me but I am an angry man, bitter and filled with grief.

    Nothing will change until I fix that.

    I am notoriously alone now, kept alive only by the sweetness of radar love.

    Is my mind winning or losing? Shall I opt out of the game.

    Do I owe anyone anything? Is there any reason to stay here?

    These thoughts keep me awake at night, every night.

    Someday this alone will harm me.

    I am becoming stupid, I can feel it.

    The brain disease is chasing down my neuro connections.

    I feel small signs of ineptness, But I must be strong.

    For there is yet a few more tricks this old boy has

    To brighten up the mine, keep my self from loneliness

    Enjoy what’s left of my time.



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