Wayward Son

Old looks young, beers go down easy

Life never had first time around

Pert and taught primed for life

Fuck TBI and subsequent recovery

Hell on earth realized, handled


Old looks younger, lost in nostalgia never had

Paradigm shifts realities

Multidimensional, multiple timelines

Somewhere at this moment, I am what I see

What I remember, thrived in adolescence

Not remembered

All happens now, every ever

Memory is reality imagined

Paradoxical old guy sits in college hall

Writes poem on reality be

On what is realized with life lived in delay

Half past thirty, looks twenty-three

Thank fuck for smiles, for laughter

One hour more, journey from Unnostalgic nastalgia

Does not want to leave, continues to revel in

Reality robbed, redneck, thirsty, never knew

Shit happens, carry on.

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