Two Thousand Three
Years grow shorter,
faster.
After the age of twenty one
insurance dropped,
lower,
quicker,
even after my fender bender.
On that twenty first day,
twenty two
two thousand two
a year
unsuccessful,
ambition-less,
mostly that is, by the end
I gathered myself,
independence.
I met a girl,
Elizabeth
a Spanish queen
ten years later
she still haunts my dreams.
She liked the ladies,
but I was her guy,
cohabitation,
compromise.
My ghetto
professional
a ride or die chick.
I loved her for a time
but our time ended to quick.
Jared Pickett
8/4/2010
Asavvy1
Copyright © Jared Pickett | Year Posted 2010
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