Nothing ever stays the same
And
yet, in ways diverse,
Instead
of real improvement,
It
seems things are getting worse.
Perhaps
if I were younger,
Optimistic
thoughts would reign
And
I wouldn’t find so much
About
which I can’t help complain.
I
will not list my worries
Or
the reasons I feel stressed,
So,
although the future’s waiting,
I
think I’ll be unimpressed.
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