Red Lipstick & A Tight Ponytail

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Red lipstick & a tight ponytail
The pretty piano player; a punk rockette
The domestic goddess with a need to be clean
Living on the edge of the cosmopolitain set

Hoarding her guilty pleasures fiercely
The moral ambiguity is a stubborn crutch
Ignoring nature’s perfectly placed laws
But she’ll only accept the light’s soft touch

Wearing an evening gown at her elegant leisure
Within her mind, no better way to take a selfie
She’s blunt with her standards & expectations
But lucky for us all, my poems are gluten free

 

Image by Kelsey Vere from Pixabay

Now That I’m Old…

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Now that I’m old, there’s no chance to be cool
I’m that creepy lurker passing the delicates isle
Finding myself lost in nebulous thought
Youth dropping their eyes while I try to smile

You can’t be friendly when you’re a certain age
Somewhere along the line, I missed my cue
Oblivious to the graffiti on the decaying walls
I’m slowly dying, more with each day that’s through

Stuck before I can be the wisened old fellow
Conversations with alter egos as I deliberate
Taunting life with my aggressive apathy
Father Time impatiently waiting for my cryptic fate

A litmus test for fragile character upon my days
Emerging from adulthood with wisdom in my head
Never again a victim to society’s whims
Pushing past expectations; my own hero instead

Rising higher than their own trite requirements
Still not accepted & still the silly old fool
Sketchy, weird & perpetually the outcast
Damn, there went my last chance to finally be cool

We Have Quiet Inspirations

We have quiet inspirations

Somber tones you seldom realize

Shifting away from self-imposed

Heartaches & their relayed lies

We must accept the responsibility

Adulting was never part of the plan

Though you gotta make the most of it

Take it from me – Sincerely

                                       The Pan