Time never waitedWhen young, I, and dyingCould be found swinging easyPleased freely by the old winds wheezingI, warbling, ringing…
Medals are prizesfor ruined boys.
Puffy faces offamiliar strangersgrown stoutwith passing years,desperatelytrying to lureyouth back againwith…
Home is where
your first and lost loves linger,
The very younglike to believethey will painttheir own lives.
Youth is wasted on the young.
Cracked cups. A decrepit vehicle.Carpets worn by cats and feet.Dead friends and forgotten wars.
In a room by myself
by myself
Tune in. Turn on. Drop out. — TL