The mind goes blank once more,
I have endured another year.
A pocketful of memories and one way streets
have confirmed my greatest fear.
My walking shoes are worn and old,
and so is this shell.
Days and weeks, precious, I've sold,
and struggled thru this hell.
Yet to pay my dues and settle down, aging, graced, and well,
I think i'll just be old, and somehow remain unwell.
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