When the things that ya owns
Are a pile of dry bones
And yer books are a pile of dead leafs
And alla yer plastic's
A puddle fantastic
And yer memory a box full o griefs
When alla yer food
Just sours yer mood
And won't fill that hole in yer day
And new TV shows
Are suckin and blows
And the old ones are fadin away
When the things that ya did
As a stupid young kid
Come and kick yer sorry old ass
Or worse what ya didn
Or tried to keep hidden
Come and mock ya in front of the class
When dreams and diversions
Just add to the hurtins
And they make no reason or rhyme
And every damp day
Is dark grim and gray
Ya know that it's holiday time!
12-21-2017
It's not even 10:30 AM and this Monday has already kicked my butt.
No comments:
Post a Comment