Smudged glasses perched at the end of my nose,
Teeth are no longer in pristine white rows.
Black sacks filled with coals droop under mine eyes
Brown belts stretch and fray, a diet of lies

Tired defeat just one coffee away,
Nearer and nearer with each passing day
Rest and recover, times’s up for today,
This moment is gone, for now anyway.

Why worry, why moan, why whine and why fret.
Stop. Consider. Or perhaps better yet;

Accept that your lot is shot, what you got
Will one day rot, and what that you begot
Will be forgot, but; tis not all for naught.
Let’s concoct an upshot, some food for thought-

Though ourselves we may be temporary,
Our impact’s nonetheless contemporary.


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