They always seem so important at the instant.

Ten years down the line you’ll look back and laugh
That you were so obsessed
With chess,
That you were so vexed
When denied sex,
That you couldn’t think
Without a drink,
That heavy metal
Was such a petal,
That you were so enamoured by silly sessions
Of cooing and giggling with your mistress,
Or guitar lessons,
That your world once revolved around rubber bridge,
Or fighting to preserve our heritage,
That you were once a raving communist,
An anarchist,
Or even an exhibitionist.

Ten years on, or even further down the line,
You’ll look back and ask yourself:
"Whatever was I thinking at the time?"

Meanwhile you’ll feed your latest fad:
What is it this time?



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