To the Future
I'm getting old!
Over the hill.
On a downward slide
to just so much dust.
My beard -
If I keep pulling
the gray hairs
it will be gone.
The hair on top
is half gone already -
Fuck You - I ain't cutting it no more! Ever!
Quit asking when I'm getting a haircut,
it ain't gonna happen!
Those young chicks -
the ones I want to hold
so close,
and make out with,
and take to bed...
They wince and mumble something
about their dad.
My daughter -
who you think would call me dad..
she just calls me old man
and holds out her hand
for more of my old cash.
I'm getting old,
but I'm not bitter.
I've made use of my time,
lived a halfway decent life.
and when I'm...
where ever I go,
after I'm dead,
I'll have a smirk on my face.
I've left something behind.
Future college students
will have to discuss
why this poem sometimes does
and does not rhyme.
Copyright © 1997