I get older, time's running out
For the young waste of time to find
That this love is the one, no doubt.
I have such remorse on my mind.
I am so busy with the stuff
That give me the look of success.
I don't seem to have time enough
To toil at love, I must confess.
Hitting love with a rifle is
Mostly a miss on a long shot.
Since I wanna up the odds biz,
A short range shotgun's what I got.
Hurry to love and just can't wait.
Maybe love's with this next speed date
Comments about this poem (Speed Date by Ima Ryma )
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