I am human. A person.
That simple fact, a reason,
To be included in my inventory.
It’s a necessary part of my story.
I admit I childishly cheated as a kid
Of course, I lied about what I did.
I stole cigarettes from my aunts,
Smoked the instant I had the chance.
Naturally, there was *** to be had
And though called sinful, I was glad
To be among the very lucky few
Who didn’t wonder about it. We knew.
School over, I tried to avoid the draft
By enlisting in the air force. Daft.
That was in the days during the calm
When very few of us knew of Vietnam.
My feet were flat, somehow or another.
Asked if I'd drafted, “Maybe your mother!”
He said she would be called rather than I.
I’d never make a march fully packed, goodbye.
So, I started into living my life, aimlessly
Content to dodge the service blamelessly.
Rather than go to college, discouraged by Dad,
I made the best with the talents I already had.
I worked in clerical jobs, and organizing files
And grew bored with that after a long while.
I sang in nightclubs and in little theater
But never got my star ambitions together.
So, I learned to smoke *** and crash
In the pads of friends when out of cash.
I’d wash their dishes, and cook good food
And even sleep with them when in the mood.
I walked some picket lines and protested
And when evil laws got passed, contested.
I carried signs and worked odd jobs around;
Did casual income accrual that could be found.
I worked for years at a company for bucks,
Thinking permanent salary changes luck,
And it did because I finally bought a home
And stopped being a hippie on the roam.
I loved and lusted with the constant line
Of **** available hotties I could find
People who had time for a bit of fun.
And by then, I was the perfect one.
All this means, I had a normal acumen
For living life and being a human.
I make no apologies here, instead
Like a pony, I let myself have my head.