At twenty-one my life was wretched, grim,
Although the nightmare worst was yet to come,
The world sped by while I, out on a limb,
Was going nowhere, mind and body numb.
At twenty-one your life was yet to live,
And yet there in that cold, dark place you lie,
Unlike this wretch you had so much to give,
Instead this evil world will pass you by.
At times I rail at life so cruel, unfair,
And at the poor cards it has dealt to me,
But then my thoughts turn to you lying there,
And I make light of my own misery.
If I could turn back time, would better done,
If you were twenty-one and I were gone.
January 30, 2008
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