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Busy with stuff


Old man (run down),

Strolls up and down the lane

Walks his dog in the afternoon,

doesn’t really mind the rain

Got time to himself,

No hurry, no pressure,

Whistles out to the old stray,

Tastes the wind for leisure

Why these folks are so

busy with stuff

That he knows don’t matter?

Curse yourself for the time you spend running around

– in the hereafter, no

Sees himself as a young man,

Boiling with ambition

Now he’s contented,

As he is in remission

Caressing the sheep dog,

Shrugging in amazement

Enjoys the evening as he

Proceeds across the pavement

Turns up his collar and

Takes a vow:

I’d be taking my time

If I were a young man now

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