Stuntman

Me and my futile love affairs,
Unfruitful and damaging beyond all repairs

None conceived, and no one compares,
Though I cherish mine and envy theirs

Indeed these petulant love affairs,

Are like the stunts the stuntman dares,
For his insatiable addiction of shifting gears

They’re reminiscent adages that memory shares,
With reclining old men in rocking chairs



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