all of you
twenty somethings, happy studnets in your house
having parties, shouting laughing, down the road.
all of you too old to be so foolish,
hillbillies in winkles,
in ignorance playing loud
gospel music, driving me cazy,
cutting away my peace, all of you,
driving your loud cars that make my
house shake, all of you who are about
to drive me to drink, and some of you who
palce me on the brink of worry, all of
you in a hurry, who don't give a damn,
every single one of you
will be sitting her, tired and exhausted, having
let go of the dreams that matter
and quietly working on the ones that do,
feeling as flustered as i,
frazzled and ready to burn
but will you handle it as well as me
when it is your turn?