Each day another page is writ
Upon the life in progress

Each day another page is writ
Upon the life in progress
Each day more ink is spent
Upon the whitened forest

Aghast that days speed by a blur
And time stops for nobody
As faces sag and days grow cold
And options just became fewer

Still I know that dreams come true
Just also know that work must do
What once was thought as dreams come true
Instead is hard works magic

Today a young man wanted me
and so he said online
he also said and said was joke
he romanced older girls for money

Well money I have got I guess
Ee’n tho I earn each dime and dollar,
And yet I’m damned if I will fall
For flattery he spouts, unearned

So I instead will watch the sky
And hope that pieces don’t fall down
And burst my dream of a younger lover
That I sent packin’ to the arms of a less deserved woman

So poet I may be and yet
Am practical to the very bone
No one will pry my money or heart away
Unless from my dead hands, or brain