For luck that is and isn't hard
and that which brings you down.
The that the years just cannot touch
and the shit that makes you frown.
'Tis family that can wrench the glitch
and force the bloody row,
and other stuff you just can't see,
that troubles furrowed brows.
But birthdays with the ones you love,
that you know just do it back,
makes up for all that shit and more
and keeps you on the track.
So count 'em off, the years you get,
they don't go on forever.
Make a mark and think about,
the always and the never.
Brett A. Jones May 1996
