Salad Days

He’s a bad boy and a gentleman too

Thrilling me in the prime of my youth

 

Ride and love and bum around

Bob Dylan singing in the background

 

Golden hour of our desires breaks through

Take a break from the wheel and I’ll satisfy you

 

Young love blesses our salad days

And sunlight bares your cerulean gaze

 

Images of wedding bells chime

Electric pulses

Loving you on borrowed time

 

And when our bodies warmly embrace

We’ll cling to the naïve idea of always

 

But growth will sculpt us in different frames

Even if it causes growing pains

 

You can’t stand the thought of being alone

Even though we all dream alone

And even young dreamlike love reaches a dead zone

 

Fading of our connection is the elephant in the room

Lovers who don’t flow like they used to

 

You were so good and so bad too

We’ll be better apart as who we grow into

This poem is about: 
Me

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