Folk-fest
You look quizzically
At the years gone by;
Frowning at all those
Who've joined
The slide of time;
Your pony-tail
Is longer, greyer,
And your Tilley hat
More wrinkled.
You dance inside
To bits of half-forgotten tunes,
Still eating childhood's ice cream
Or sipping beer in cups
That are disposable,
Wishing you weren't;
And so, you frown.
poem by Roger Clark
Added by Poetry Lover
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