Stronger, Faster, Younger
Stronger, Faster, Younger.
In my prime of life.
No use for strife.
More need for a wife.
Stronger, Faster, Younger.
When the day was long.
Not knowing right from wrong.
Singing a working mans song.
Stronger, Faster, Younger.
My midlife crisis will pass.
Winter brown on dead grass.
Retirement just out of grasp.
Weaker, Slower, Older.
I was given a slip today.
More so to just go away.
Silver hair a dull grey.
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poem by Gulliver Gimble
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No Whisper, No Sound.
Look at all the cracks in this wall.
If things don't change, they will sprawl.
You've been given a warning, a simple call.
One more month to watch it fall.
Rotten apples have been landing below.
Not even worthy of picking up to throw.
Disease is evident as this tree grows.
No green grass on the other side to mow.
Rancid days and hours are spent.
Like worthless dollars on houses for rent.
Soon to wonder where the good worker went.
You've been given a warning, a simple hint.
This dear boy hasn't time to hang around.
This tree is worthless and sagging the ground.
A little nourishment and hope can be found.
I will leave in silence, no whisper, no sound.
poem by Gulliver Gimble
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My Younger Days/ Part II
Indeed time is a factor.
Years, Months, Weeks, Days, Hours and Seconds.
Before our eyes we learn about life.
A boat with no ocean is still a boat.
Time without meaning is still a life.
We have to answer for it all.
Yet, we still marvel at what could have been.
What should have been.
And what remains to be seen.
Misfortune will sometimes take a break.
Guidance, Understanding, Compassion and Love.
These are things that are never truely pondered.
It wasn't apart of alot of our childhoods.
But yet, it was....just never expressed enough.
So we grow, change and sometimes stay the same.
Looking for answers from others around.
Guided by fate and cards we are dealt.
Choices we make, good or bad, are still choices.
Not a sob story, O'Boo Woo, cry for me.
Just another American kid thrown in the mix.
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poem by Gulliver Gimble
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