Less ahead of me, more in the past. And, it seems, my best keeps getting less every day. And I struggle to be relevant. I'm worn out and worried. Trying' not to be buried. Before I hear that calling from the ether. Do they ever get the name wrong? Could they possibly make a mistake? Could I pretend not to hear them? Could I send up a fake? We live our lives on lies. I'm telling you that's the truth. Little white ones, big and dark. A big build up, out of the blue. Could they get my name wrong? On a spelling mistake? Could I pretend not to be there? Could I be lost, for God's sake? I count my blessings, as the days tick down. I collect knowledge, but forget wisdom. I know someday I'm going, know where I'm coming from?
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March 2024
Alfred C. MartinoEveryday life, as seen by me Categories |