if fortune favors brave ones
i was brined lily-liver no onions
could hardly stand to raise my voice
humor canned with a flavor so bland
in truth in youth given no choice
now middle-aged and how cagey
no longer the bold man’s foil
but bald man toiling and mortally coiled
no longer scraping for stage lights
off stage left gone pear-shaped
more stubborn than i was
at times i itch to fight
when i know what’s right and what’s rich
when to flex or be flexible
to pretend to flinch or ditch
how fearless i feel now thumbing my nose
snuffing the day facing oncoming night
tell me no heaven nor hell and just nothing well
that’s alright
everything’s alright
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