Idly sitting by the fire…cigarette in tow,
drawing smoke rings in the hazy air,
disappearing…and reappearing once more.
Thinking of you and me, chiding each other
about this or that…
Why is it, that there’s a fine line between love
and loathing? I’d like to know, I’d like to know.
Wishing you were next to me, at this precious moment,
while I’m here loafing around, doing absolutely nothing.
Combing my hair, counting one, two, three…to be, to be and be.
Thinking I should read a book or listen to a radio’s forgotten melody.
Wincing at my own image in an age old mirror…oh how old
do I look now, younger, older than my years, let’s hope
my eyes deceive me.
I can’t stop pondering that I’m about half way done with life,
or it’s about half way done with me.
Oh what’s to be done about that….
Nothing, absolutely nothing…
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