Bare in mind every hair-splitting detail:
Giving up was growing up.
Retail prices of bail bonds, re-told crises turned stories
Have gotten old so we painted the white roses red
Instead of trite and true head-loss.
Blah Blah brain trama drama, tears for dear old mama
Mean-time spent
While we've met cross-breeds with clarinet reeds
Never shoved down tiny child throats.
Too fat to fly.
Too fat to ****.
Hook -- one for the money.
Line -- two for the show.
Sinker -- three to turn back and tinker with hands as toys.
Cut out and crafty make-shift girls with faulty gills
Flop and flail on glue-covered decks next to
Peeled and punched newspaper clipped boys.
Giving up was growing up.
Moving on, and I'm still growing up.

(Written 3/12)