This is a new poem. I might read it Thurs. night. I might not.
Weary Man Thoughts
The lines on my face are faint
But they grow deeper each day
The hair on my head can’t wait
To fall out and turn gray
Hours drift into days real easy
Bad news eclipses the good
Some lovers love quiet and breezy
Some hearts break harder then they should
Luckily I know a great woman
Who will put a blanket on my bed
At the end when I go down dyin’
But for now she keeps me satisfied and fed
A Plumbers Nightmare
9 years ago
1 comment:
Jeepers, Jeff, you are a surly bastard! But seriously, and I do mean seriously, it's great to see some new work from you. I liked the line about the great woman putting a blanket on your bed.
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