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May 2013
At twenty seven I drove much more
recklessly than my eighteen year old
self would ever have done
my husband says I stopped singing
around twenty three
the words that would careen out of my mouth
like his little songbird
made beautiful from years of practise and
patience
slowly dimmed and then eventually altogether
faded as the notes I sang were
replaced by cigarettes in my mouth
and headaches from the shift of high school choir
to my career as a technician

At twenty seven, all my dreams
of activism had fled
when I was eighteen I swore to change
the world, but at twenty seven I
could only stare at my sister's family
and wish I had taken one up of my own.

At twenty seven, the smiles and laughter
had fled from my face, despite
being fully visible in every picture of me
at age eighteen.

At twenty seven, I had grown up.
At eighteen, I was still young.
Ollie Godsson
Written by
Ollie Godsson  Redneck America
(Redneck America)   
694
   Jay Wasnothing
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