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The laughter of the moment.
The sudden strange feeling of discontent.
Then...
Gone.

The essence of being.
The anxious thoughts of fear.
Then...
Gone.

The glory of truth.
The damning thought of doubt.
Then...
Gone.

The endearing compassion of love.
The searing fire of hate.
Then...
Gone.

The lasting impression of beauty.
The self-hate of vanity.
Then...
Gone.
Thoughts of then when days were slow
When young boys beards refused to grow,
When girls were cute with big round eyes
And innocence was no surprise.
When that old grocer rearranged
To slip you extra…plus the change,
When ten bucks spent would purchase gas
And guarantee the trip plus cash.
And postmen…how they never missed
Despite those storms and gales that ******.
And sun that shone with heat that earned
That golden tan which never burned,
Sweet songs were sung with golden voice
When radio was ours by choice.
Ripe apricots, right off the tree
Made such a juicy mess of me,
And apple pie was Sunday’s best
When first those chores had passed the test.
People nodded passing bye
And chose to smile and meet the eye.

Thoughts of then when days were slow
When young boys beards just wouldn’t grow.

Thoughts of then with honest grace
When dignity depicted pace,
Where simple pleasures held the key
For a kinder… happiness to be.

M.

— The End —