Do you remember when we were boys?
When mischief was our main profession?
With mud about our corduroys
Walking from the field in our football procession?
We chased and tried to catch the girls
Whom we presumed thought us cool.
We occupied our time in class with jokes
Or smoking cigarette butts behind the school.
Time the tax-collector troubled us not
For all the years of these days,
Time was when we ate and how our race
Told our speed, which meant a lot.
Work was gathering stones to build our forts,
Scavenging sticks to build a fire of sorts,
Setting a trap for some unlucky beast,
Or waking to see the glorious sun rising in the east.
I remember when, God forgive our souls,
We skipped Mass (more than once, I might add)
To eat teachers' kolaches and doughnut holes,
But more for the adventures we had.
When we ran in the forest, we were Injuns.
When we sailed on the lake, we were Pirates,
But now we're just drab grown-ups,
Our characters weak as sand; like Pilate's.
What changed in us?
What made this so?
Temptation leads to sin, plus
Sin corrupts the soul.
The good ole days.
