I’m drinking yesterday’s coffee,
and dreaming yesterday’s dreams;
I’m wearing yesterday’s clothing,
that’s faded with unraveled seams.
I once made more than two million,
then lost even more than I made;
I’m now an old, white-haired pauper,
whose debts will never get paid.
Voted the best dressed in high school,
the one who’d most likely succeed;
no clue as to what the fuck happened;
to know now, there’s really no need.
What I know is the future came quickly;
there’s no time left to alter its course.
I suppose that it’s time I accept this,
after screaming real loud ‘til I’m hoarse!
~gj duerrschmidt
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