Old Hat

I’m sitting here wondering why,

People put an expiration date,

On something not brand new,

How is it not still great?

And not still worth its weight in gold?

Do you have an answer?

Or will your mouth just continue to hammer?

At what age does this classic,

Become trash to fill a sack?

Is it actually,

Without a doubt,

Truly fucking worn out?

Or might you be kind of close-minded,

Just following the twisted thinking,

Of your fellow mankind?

Antique to me means much,

Not out dated at all,

And as such,

I’ll keep a hold on it,

Because an original,

Versus a copycat,

Why the fuck,

Would I give up that?

Old fashioned,

Isn’t necessarily behind the times,

No need to pawn it off for cash,

Anyway,

When did gaining another year become a crime?

An heirloom, a treasure, a relic,

Not ancient or creaky or clunky,

It shouldn’t be cast as an outcast,

To a pile of unacceptable junk,

But be a collector’s item,

To be recycled,

To brighten your days,

And to remind you of the good old ways.

LOL @ “Love”

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I wish you well,

My fellow ladies,

And may you forever steer clear,

Of the ones who are crazy.

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It does not exist,

At least,

Not in the genre,

For which we all hope and pray.

It’s fictional,

And I am not being stereotypical,

But it’s simple fact,

It exists abundantly in other forms,

But that one,

Produces toxic storms in swarms.

I wonder why this is so?

Why we let bliss turn into,

Row after row?

I’d almost rather,

Never have had it at all,

Than go through,

The predestined fall.

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First you think you’ve found it,

Seems to you,

You’ve found a perfect fit,

Then the storms start to brew,

And someone changes their view,

Before you know it,

You’re back to just you.

Now here you are,

Should you try again?

Yes,

You’ve decided,

But the sweet wears off,

And again one takes off,

Like a shot.

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It’s a joke,

A waste of time,

And that’s the commodity most precious,

So why do we waste it,

On something fictitious?

I’ve made a list,

Weighed pros and cons,

Seems the emotional investment,

Is not even close to worth it,

The most you can hope for,

Is staying a tad bit detached,

So when the time comes,

You can walk out the door,

Without being dragged down,

Left to live depressed and sore.

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I see your smirk,

But you will see,

It will not work,

He will turn face,

And be a mighty jerk,

Once again,

You’ll need to begin anew,

Because of what,

He’ll put you through.