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Posted by MFish

Sometimes when I'm writing,
I would swear, my mind
Has thoughts of it's own.

With pen in hand, I write
The words that pop into
This brain of mine.
Writing fast, scribbling here,
Unable to read the words
As they fly by, as I attempt to
Write. Oh my goodness
There is no period in sight
To end all this rambling
Prose. There. Finally one
Did appear, but what happened
To the commas?
Did they disappear?
I wish I knew, for it would
Make it clear, that my
Writing sense is not here.

The time draws close these days I'm alive
for in a few days I will be eighty-five.
An age I never thought I would see
with my youthful display of debauchery.
Chasing women, drinking wine in cars,
spending many hours, drinking in bars.
But in my defense, I started to run
and realized, in running, I was still having fun.
More fun than anything, that I did before,
except playing soccer when a header I did score.

The scurrying of paws
across the floor,
meant that I wasn't alone,
not anymore.
Creatures with claws, gathered
to leap,
so I rose unsteadily
to my aged, old feet.
Turning around, I had a glance
seeing my two grand dogs
starting to prance.
Glad to see me, at least on that day
and they came up to me
as if to say, " we miss you grandpa"
please throw the ball today.

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