Derision
It’s the fried egg sandwich on white bread
And cherry yogurt on a tray
Little things I’ll miss when I’m dead
Are the reasons why I try to stay
Take the fresh clean sheets off my bed
They’re a part of every day
The kind of thing that I’ll miss
Or are these things just in my way
What I know is indecision
Where I’ll go is in the air
It is driving to derision
What is left below my hair!
C 2010 David Brunoehler
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