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
Conquered
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.
Hitchhiker 