Where have those real people gone,
you know, the ones who were
bohemian born.
Put that in your pipe and smoke it
they would always say.
It was a feather in your nest
in that fine day.
Thick and fast we were on that great
stage!
Now life is ready to turn the page.
Youth slowly fades in the hour of need.
Put a good face on it - yes take heed.
All talent has gone out of our mind.
The wages of sin have not been so kind.
Read the prime of life- it will
smoke it out.
Still waters run deep and thats
what it is all about.
michele kostelnik
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/mirror-147/
