The heights of passion are lofty places
that take away your breath,
but I have to remember carefully
its been so long since I left.
Going hell bent through my youth
with single minded purpose,
careening from one love to another
a twenty year hectic circus.
I have long since reaped those wild oats
and cherish the memories,
but only the young can stand the pace
because it clogs your arteries.
My passion was food along with the girls
and they both stay with us awhile,
shorter relationships and longer belts
tragically is now my style.
I hoist a glass to the memories
of strength and speed in youth,
because I'm still twenty deep inside
that's the honest truth.
But the body now knows better
and tells the mind to chill,
'cause most of the things it wants to do
would quickly and cruelly kill.
by Robert Quinn
all rights reserved
No comments:
Post a Comment