With Age Comes Wishdom

I’m a mess,
I’m at that age
When I ask myself, “What’s my message?”

I’m a euphemism for timepass
I’m at that time, at that age,
When I ask myself, “Where’s my Rites Of Passage?”

I’m a failing marriage,
I’m at a crossroads in the Isle of Maria,
When I ask myself, “Why are emotions marred with age?”

I’m an empty insomniac Cot,
I’m at the epoch of an age,
When I ask myself, “How can I be a homeless cottage?”

I’m an afterimage,
A page of the run of the mill appendage,
Age will discourage, but that’s no cause for outrage.

Life is a take it or leave it package

nebula 2

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