Change in aspirations.
When I was younger
I wanted to go out like Morrison.
Life lived at
break neck speed
Debauched
High
Dead in Paris
at age 28.
Nowadays
I just want to be
Tom Waits
Sat on a porch
with a glass of wine
in my hand
And my cat's
asleep at my feet.
It's funny,
as each passing year
drags you one step
closer to death
your priorities seem
to
change.
poem by Neil Gray
Added by Poetry Lover
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