Wednesday, June 19, 2013


written somewhere in the middle of life by jake kilroy.

i want to die at the helm of the future,
with nothing but a pair of sunglasses in my will.
"he had a closet full of straight jackets."
"he loved as hard as he hated."
"he went to bed alone with many."
each newspaper will have a story,
and i'll be sipping cloudy martinis,
when i finally get around to reading them,
but it'll be too late to change for the better.

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