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Headstall's Reflections - 89. Chapter 89 Mockery
It's just a poem... with some truth in it.
Mockery
Age, it creeps like an oily, well-fueled fungus
Unrelenting in its mocking determination
To thwart all pleasures of this moldy, old cuss
And ensure my eventual termination
It affects from without, and absorbs from within
Stealing satisfaction we thought we owned
And invading our minds with a numbing din
Where once our skills and thoughts were honed
There is no joy in tracing veins beneath skin
Or rinsing blanched hair from the shower floor
Not even in remembering once-cherished kin
Who long ago went through life’s final door
Alas, there is no magical ending in sight
Though you can convince yourself otherwise
You can believe there is some big, bright light
But I confess to having lost the peace that buys
Thanks for reading.
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