Friday, May 22, 2026

The Good Ones





All my life I've worried about the ride ending. Leaving gas in the tank of the car traded-in. I've saved 
t shirts to keep from wearing them out till I outgrew them. I've even saved the biggest, most perfect banana until it turned brown.

Now, it's too late to be cheated, past any chance of leaving a good looking corpse.

I don't have to wear pants, speak softly or show up, pretending to like my work.

If I tell you something now, I probably mean it.

Funny, nothing's much changed.

Give us peace on earth and end this dreadful, dreadful war.






 

No comments:

Post a Comment