this is not my town
I am an alien
that moved in long ago
I walk many streets where
no one knows my first name nor last
and never will
they are not interested...
I have become a ghost of sorts
in the glaring daylight
the aging get lost among the sightless youth
worth is calculated in beauty and smoothness
and in not being a nuisance
or in the ability to blend in
and be of some Utilitarian purpose
warranty's do expire
when you do not have the necessary appendages of
grandchildren, children, extended family, a house, a career
there's no reason to BE anymore when
you take up valuable space
which can easily be charged so much more for
since you come so cheap
(I don't know you and what has your generation
done for me lately except burden and harden the system?)
ah the days of my youth did once seem sweet
but now seem to be tinged with remorse, a taint of bitterness
did I know the value of all who passed the door of my heart
I thought I did
I thought every one had some measure of worth
I'd have no more of this personal accounting business
the devaluing of souls and the quick knee-jerk turn and
sharp upturn of the nose attitudes
Its time to dispose of you and you and you
(the accusatory fingers of youth point)
you are through
you are an,
an over-done potato.
(chuck her on the trash heap of humanity)
This Author Writer Has Legal Copyright for
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without her expressed permission.
Melissa A Howells. Meloo/Straight from her Tilt-a-World
timed stamped 9:38am October 23, 2016....All Rights Are Reserved.
Youth is wasted solely on the youth and so is charity at times...it is meant
to be spread around generationally for all.
there are youth who are old souls. there are old souls that are perpetually
youthful...forget your bone-headed dichotomized thinking...and open your eyes
everyone has a purpose here. The universe is big and generous enough for all.
Aha, perhaps it is not that the universe is un-generous, but that WE ARE.
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