Monday morning, trying to plan the week of what to do,
Taking a break and sipping on some brew.
Reflecting back, savoring the past weekends' meals and thought,
Man, I wish I could still control my farts.

Moving on, each day granted another blessing to count,
Thankful for what I have and cherish.
Regrets are few, except being limited to such few typing fonts,
Munching on that PB sandwich with dill relish.

Months pass, time never rests blowing by so quick,
Tick-tock off the seconds without quit.
Regardless, growing up is no more an option to select,
Mooning passersby from the front porch bench.

Mothers and pa's, guide, provide and nurture a life sufficient,
Trials and goals met with the same vigor and efficence.
Regrowth after SCI, honoring them is something I must do,
Move over world, Crips coming through.

"It's time for the long arm the law put a few more in the ground." Toby Keith w/ Willie Nelson