Letter to my young self
Now listen here kid,
You’ll be old one day
So learn what you can,
Don’t do stuff I did
And you’ll be ok
That string with a hook
Can’t catch a good keeper
So set it aside
And follow the brook
And keep going deeper
Your meal is the hunt
I’m sorry to say,
Your ribs that stick out
(I hate to be blunt)
Aren’t going away
That’s not all bad tidings
For food makes you fatter
And hunger can gain
More ground in your stridings
Than plump pitter patter
And kid, pray for me
I woke up one day
With hair on my face
On future’s vast sea
And youth on the bay
Notes
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