Home » Poetry » Year 2: Day 35 – I Must Be Getting Old

Year 2: Day 35 – I Must Be Getting Old

I must be getting old
because I’m not
going to try
this time.

(When you see a fly cat
on the street,
betta get it,
betta get it ‘fore it
passes you by.)

I must be getting old
because I’m going to let you walk
right on by,
just as far as you please.

(When you see a dope morsel
on the corner
betta get it,
betta snatch it up
before it’s too late.)

I must be getting old
because I know that game
never works;
it only gets you
short relief.

(When you see a slick piece
‘cross the way,
betta get it,
betta get it quick,
so you ain’t alone.)

I must be getting old
because I want you
so bad
and I’m not
going to do
a damn thing.

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6 thoughts on “Year 2: Day 35 – I Must Be Getting Old

  1. The haste against the contemplation of maturity is very striking. This speaks so true to the recesses of my own thoughts, thoughts I would rather not admit is there. That to want a rich full life immediately, now (yesterday, in fact) but in my haste I guess I should consider the richness that is already there. I could be missing what is real and true today in thinking that somehow it might be more real or true, tomorrow.

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