deepundergroundpoetry.com
Playing The Back Nine
When it comes to the game of life I ain’t Nicklaus or Woods
in my younger days sometimes I could show I had the goods
Sadly, I have very little to show for my 21,900 days on the greens
no fortune or fame by any means
My poetry is my consolation prize
that I bequeath to the world upon my demise
If it brings a smile or a tear
at least you will know that I was here
Currently in America life is at best Surreal
Sturm und Drang is all I feel
With my words I sound a clarion call
to tear down these mental Racists gates and wall
Either way in my mind
I know I am-Playing The Back Nine
in my younger days sometimes I could show I had the goods
Sadly, I have very little to show for my 21,900 days on the greens
no fortune or fame by any means
My poetry is my consolation prize
that I bequeath to the world upon my demise
If it brings a smile or a tear
at least you will know that I was here
Currently in America life is at best Surreal
Sturm und Drang is all I feel
With my words I sound a clarion call
to tear down these mental Racists gates and wall
Either way in my mind
I know I am-Playing The Back Nine
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