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Odd Years

Nineteen Ninety-one slipped past without my slipping in
The string is broken, I fear that God won't let me sin
I've got less than half a year to reach my naughty goal
To meet a foxy lady, find some hay and take a roll
 
Back in the Eighties, odd numbered years were good to me
Now the good ones are all taken and the bad aren't free
There's still some women waiting within the smoky bars
But I'm sure we'd never make it past the back seat of their cars
 
Seems I've fallen out of touch now that I have turned thirty
What used to be a good time is now defined dirty
While being single this day and age is a dangerous game
Love turned me away each time so I don't feel that I'm to blame
 
What do I do now with all these swiftly growing fears
Middle age will take over in only ten more years
Then divorce will be my last chance for the right choice
After ten years past my heart found no reason to rejoice
 

* 06/09/1993
Some of these old poems remind me that I used to have a sense of humor... This is another of my borderline erotic poems that I wasn't quite sure how to categorize it, but I figure it's better to be safe than sorry! jj
Written by Poetryman
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