Jul 23, 2021

skin like tin, thin and hard

Almost winter, both in the time of year

And at this time in my life. Skin like tin,

Thin and hard. My memory is tinted

Somewhat from the passing years, 

And I reject my old sins; it’s imbecilic

To hold on to the past. Pointless. Slowly,

The current year is running out of wind.

And so am I. One does not escape time.




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