untitled
Each Spring the lesson sinks in once again:
I cannot be a man if I admit
to always being what I’ve always been.
By the end of every Summer, I forget.
Written in about 1961, IIRC
Each Spring the lesson sinks in once again:
I cannot be a man if I admit
to always being what I’ve always been.
By the end of every Summer, I forget.
Written in about 1961, IIRC