Thoughts of an unsuccessful, never married, late middle-aged, likely terminally ill, American man who recently became an amputee.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Rehab (Poem)
Never been in rehab, But I sure wish I could. You go in feeling unfab, And walk out feeling good. People cut you lots of slack, And forgive all your misdeeds. They’re just so glad to see you back, After a some months of stringing beads.
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