maybe it doesn't matter

too young for Woodstock too old for Barbie dolls I wore blue denim bell-bottoms sometimes flowers in my hair she arrived with summer wind my friend Squeek wild one exuding sensuality as easy as breathing making testosterone go crazy she ran with bad boys let me tag-a-long one brief friendship then she was gone vanished like summer sun what did she see in me the dumpy ugly fat girl maybe she was dream maybe she was lesson maybe it doesn't matter fifty years later I'm still groovy damned near perfect I think about her and wonder