Getting Old without Religion

I remember
what it was like
in the old days
when I would go
someplace that made me
obedient. The obedience
made me safe. There
were no obvious friends there

but everyone knew my face.
I always felt there would be
more chances and the years
would be a path to perfection.
Now I am far, far away from those melodies I used
to chew on to ease the sweet sap
out of the words. I look around for
other chances and see brevity.

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