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Joe Mendenhall Poem
For something that used to run so well,
It looks as useless as anything else sitting rusted.
If it would’ve kept working, everything would be swell,
But it sat around, so everything is busted.
Anything rusted is worthless,
even a Corvette.
Will the wicked Hot rod run again?
It’d be a good bet.
Something that used to run so well can always start back up.
It’s not impossible to get this car out of a rut.
This car may be rusted from the roof to the ground,
but it’s not too late to polish it, and turn things around.
Copyright © Joe Mendenhall | Year Posted 2014
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Joe Mendenhall Poem
America is Lazy.
We sit on computers inside.
We are fat and pasty.
We complain about our problems,
But we do nothing to fix them.
“How can we fix this?”, People ask.
Just work hard and you can accomplish any task.
Nothing will ever be achieved,
From this Lazy American lifestyle.
Hard work is what we need,
To be on successful for a while.
Copyright © Joe Mendenhall | Year Posted 2014
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Joe Mendenhall Poem
If only life were simple.
People go through complications all their life,
until they’re old and wrinkled.
The complications cut through our lives like a knife.
People die in wrecks,
people lose their happy stride.
There is still simplicity.
Imagine a lone cabin in the woods,
now that is true beauty.
Copyright © Joe Mendenhall | Year Posted 2014
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Joe Mendenhall Poem
A new Reality is created,
When you sit alone.
Whether awake or sedated,
Your mind will roam.
Suddenly your whole life is a daze.
You can’t see straight,
And you’re constantly in a kind of haze.
Although anyone can attain this anxious state of being,
Many people have decided that,
It’s no fun to be in.
Never spend too long,
Just thinking all alone.
Or you too will be in,
A Reality of your own.
Copyright © Joe Mendenhall | Year Posted 2014
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