I threw a stickball no hitter in my backyard
I mowed a “G” into the grass for Gail, my crush
I had my heart broken
I broke a heart (s)
I drove hundreds of miles on my own to a new thing
I opened many birthday presents
I started smoking
I regretted that
I kept a comfy place for cats
I rode my bike to make me feel like I was being healthy
I forgot my bike and sat fat assed
I gave an assist to an older woman of tall stuff at the grocery store
I went to college
I kept 40+ years lifelong friends
I complained
No one listened
I wished of aliens to take me away probings ok if such
I sang and even danced on occasion
I brought my glove to the ballpark, always, no matter my age
I looked at things differently, maybe, with the years
Years
I got angry
I got sad
I got happy
I got a little crazed
I told myself it would all work out
I did / do life
I wasn’t dead before it could start
I wished someone would let our youngin’s do the same

I remembered my bicycle and never smoked; otherwise a poem I could have penned myself
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I’m so glad this was something you could have called your own. Thank you. Thank you for the notice of my simple thing and of something a bit way back in my spot. Your runs into a day’s evening and witnessing wonder are what I wish so many of these little’s could have had. But, alas, these seem to be not those days, too much beholden politically to what they feel they owe but don’t realize, or care of, just being temporary and eventually, obviously destructive. But maybe there’s … but maybe there’s … we can only hope of some maybe’s there’s … be glad you never smoked by the way.
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