A Senescent Taunt Poem by Bryan Taplits

A Senescent Taunt



Regarding all my yesterdays
Those hectored days of fun
Renewing every memory
Which cleave to heart as one.
Repeating all the dear mistakes
Those sorrowed drifts, misplays,
Just lucky, I guess, that I've now matured-
And-by aging-reached this day.

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