Time Flies….

Check the mirror,
shake your head,
count your candles,
Think…
I should be dead.

Forties past you,
Fifties closing fast,
you’ve dealt your future,
pissed away your past.

You spend your time
placing crazy bets,
chasing young things
all around The Net.

A bottle of whiskey,
a bag of weed,
a rolled-up twenty
satisfies your need.

You play with this one,
you lie to that,
but all your action
is just an act.

Women your age, say
you’ve lost your shine,
while ones you’re chasing
won’t waste their time.

Your hair is graying,
so you buy the dye,
shop at Aero
just to signify.

You trade your truck
for a shiny car,
spend all your time
in the titty bar.

You shake your fist,
curse your fate,
take a little blue pill
just to masturbate.

Now the Jester
who played The King
will die alone…
without anything…

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