How’s life, old buddy
Between seventy and eighty,
eighty and ninety
Perpetually in a hurry
Heading for the cemetery
Amid emotional poverty
Are we racing against time
Or the lack of...
Don’t come runningPanting, gasping, throbbing, weepingOn bended kneesWhen rainbows cease shiningAnd bougainvilleas stop bloomingWhen no pot of gold gleams on the horizonOn the boulevard of...