But we sure had a good time
when we started way back when.
Morning walks and bedroom talks,
Oh, how I loved you then.
Jim Croce stands up from somewhere in my sleeping head and leaves me with that as I wake and rise to pee. There's this feeling of devastation for a moment, and I'm one-hundred years old. The faces and names blurred and almost gone. An Etch-A-Sketch and one good shake.
No comments:
Post a Comment