– throwing in your towels –

So…

you’re leaving today,

flying away, as

we stand behind.

What’s…

the price you will pay,

senses astray, for

quitting the line?

 

Whatever tales that’ll tail you next… 

I wish you well.

Will rhymes be rightly read and set?

You just can’t tell, but

can you tell me this: did you

truly give all your strength?

In times of youthful folly and foul, is

sense kept away at length?

 

 

D.J. Whisenant

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