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Scrap Age

These days the calendar is my nemesis, I'm

At the age where you tend to look back

Bad moves clog the rear-view mirror

Where I might have tried a different tack

 

Of late I'm in a mood for contrition but

Repentance though keen won't amend

The hurts and sorrows I've inflicted for

The stern hand of Time cannot bend

 

Its my turn to feel the lash of regrets

I feel like...

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