Tuesday, October 10, 2017

The Years of My Life, 1962

A Journey from 1944 to … Now

1962.

The summer. 1962.
My parents gave a task to do:
See—I’d take English 101
And have a bit of summer "fun."

“A sort of head start,” so they said.
“It’s time, you know, to use your head.”
And so I took that freshman class
With Prof. McKinley—hoped I’d pass.

And in that college classa B,
And I was kind of proud of me:
I’d written essays, read some stuff—
And none of it was merely fluff!

The year rolled on—I did okay.
But basketball just … went away.
I learned much later than I should
That I was really not that good.

I found some friends—some still remain.
(At times I was a bit insane.)
And then my heart got bruised and bumped:
When Spring Break came—well, I got dumped.

That high-school romance ended—boom!
Inhaled my first foul breath of Doom.
On the horizon—sophomore year.
More mess-ups lay, oh, very near.

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