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Before You Walk, You'll Have To Crawl

Rich.

Most Beautiful One

Their Sweet Song Back To Me.

Waitin



Soul Train

Uncool in School

King David Bold

Me And My Indian Wife

Merchant Of Chaos

Mary's Kitchen

TMT

I'm Glad My Mom Can't See Me

Rabbit Hole

Earthen Underworld

Blue Ribbon Frenemy

B As In Bad.

Sounds Of Sire

A lot like you.

Master Ghuey Charles Dickens

I Can't Take It No More

West Coast

The State I'm In (Song)

Midnight Comes Callin- collaboration

Family Tree

Starving For Words

Why Are You Here

Toddler's Moon

RFKMP

Trickle Down

Courtesy

Too High

More Poetry >>

I run my bath water tepid,

I'm older but, still fairly intrepid.

Since, I've turned 62,

What on earth can I do?

But, to laugh at it all.

Do I entertain you?


Though, not yet old enough for the rest home,

it's been whispered

I"m beginning to resemble a garden gnome.

My spirit bleeds silly.

My veneer is blanched pilly.

I'm growing old, what a drag.

When I date, I go stag.

Young women and old,

must think I have mold.

I barely get noticed.

So what's the red flag?

I've even considered renting rut stags

But, men too, wouldn't use me

They'd hurt and abuse me

then toss me away like some toothless old nag.

I've once again,reviewed The Tao.

It instructs me to dwell in the "here" and the "now".

But, "now" my skin isn't pink.

I smell like a skunk, what a stink.

Like the cancer it has traveled to my toilet and sink.

A stealthy stench, of which

it's a bitch.

You don't need a de-coder

to uncover the odor.

I'm slowly decaying,

I'm dying.

I think...


Buddy Bee Anthony

All copyrights editing and publishing rights reserved 'as is' by this author

Re-Edited 12/23/2023 @ 2:08 PM Pacific Standard Time






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