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Poem

It’s difficult
To contemplate
My F8
A sad ending to relate
A psychological way
To masturbate

As I progress
Thru my allotted years
I face and analyze
My internal fears
And shed somewhat regretful tears

Of not doing that or this
Reminiscing
Of what did I miss
As I hurtle towards
Death’s kiss

I realize
I don’t wish to leave
I want to stay
And not have to grieve
Life is a gift
You want to continue to receive

I wish to extend my subscription
And reaffirm my conviction
That living
Is the ultimate addiction

I admit to being greedy
And spiritually needy
And I’m not done
With questions or fun
Or being lazy soaking up the sun

I want more time
To write and rhyme
I need more days
To enjoy the sublime

I’ve spent to much chasing green paper
Wasting my time on a financial caper
Collecting crap that will outlive me
Only to be given to the next attendee
So, they may add to the pile of waste
Filling an emotionally empty space
It’s such a disgusting race

This is the F8 we face
The never-ending material chase
That simply has no place
Fleecing my time
Demanding I grind
To serve the unkind

I will make you a deal
I refuse to squeal
Bow or kneel
Or waste myself
As your personal toy on a shelf

I will be me
Come and see
Genuine and free

Not a care in the world
To which I was hurled
I will enjoy
The chains I destroy
As I disregard your ploy
To keep me locked in a cage
While you revel in my rage
To keep me from turning the page
To write a new section

Called my personal resurrection
This is my F8
Freedom’s reflection

Look into your own mirror
And own your fear
You having nothing to lose my dear


Eric (and sometimes not)

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