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About This Poem
Whispers of Despondency
"Britches" vitality
Has been like a long but confining
One way street,
Owning periods of both serenity and distress;
Grieving over former capital, changes naught,
For even his imagination on steroids
Cannot restore, though he reminisces;
Dudgeon set in
Upon recognizing that sundry things
Had been devoured by time;
Enjoyable thoughts invariably scatter
Into blackness
Forcing him back into reality,
Where his heart divulges,
That he is, and will remain,
Not as others see him, but as he thinks;
and being old has not been fun!
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