The Quarter Century Old Man

The Quarter Century Old Man                                    March 3, 2006

As I look back on my life,

I see all the things that have made me strong.

As I reflect on the rest of my acts,

So, too, do I make light of my sins.

Hell, I ain't perfect, but if you ask,

Everybody seems to think

That God sent me here to be that.

Oh well.  I'm just a little older

As well as a little bit wiser.

So, too, goes the thought processes

Of me, the quarter century old man.

Oh, but I have lived many lifetimes

Before the one you now are witnessing,

And I have, indeed, seen some shit in my day.

One time, I had a dream that I was a man at war,

Pinning down the Germans in their foxhole,

Only to be shot down, execution style,

And awaken to another day of terrors

Beneath that impending day's sunshine.

I have travelled many a sojourn in my history

Despite rarely hitting the road, the sea or air,

And I write of these, the experiences

Of the quarter century old man.

I write of what Beatle George

 Once said to be the pleasures and the pain.

I once had a love affair with an instrument,

Making her pour out sonorous tones

With every movement of the slide

And every puff of air,

But like so many love stories,

This one ended on a sour, green apple note,

Followed by the longest winter

I would think known to man.

Now I'm back, ready to roll right along,

Ready to take the bull by the horns,

And assume my place

At the throne of my domain.

I write you of these things

Which have happened to me,

These things which occured in the life

Of the quarter century old man.