November 7, 1977 Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri

---

The Old Days

How content to be racing cars
And sipping beers in tiny bars
Feeling high on times and friends,
Look at life in brighter stars.
Charting beginnings, who cares of ends.
Gathering cuts without healing past scars.

How reassuring to look around
With both feet rooted to the ground
Feeling new experiences.
And declaring, "Look at what I've found"
Crossing raging rivers and climbing fences,
There was no reality with which to be bound.

Then with quick short spurts of fate
And people whom we grow to hate
Feeling high only attained on dope
And not enough of that to saturate.
One can only look forward, believe in hope
That opportunity catches, when I throw my bait.

1977

copyright 1999-2004 by Michael F. Nyiri
ElectricPoetry
AllThingsMike