When you are old

written by W.B. Yeats

When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

I think I’m biosexual
But I’m really not too sure
There’s certain things I’d like
That I have never tried before

Friends tell me that it’s normal
And if the chance arises
To grab it with both hands
And I’ll enjoy a few surprises

Although it’s just a fantasy
A dream for which I hope
If it should ever happen
I am certain I could cope

Now I’m sure I’m biosexual
For when all is done and said
I just can’t wait to try it
With two women in my bed

Poetry Is a God Gifted Art,
Ain't it?

I commenced composing poems,
as early as eight years
When my first poem

The Truant,

Composed in a class,
was taken away by my Principal
It was about an incident,
when schools kids went a riot....

I don't remember what I wrote
But ever since I have composed
Poetry of my own
And
as you must have noticed
No two poems of mine are alike,
They neither rhyme nor chime
But so many friends,
I can now claim as mine.

From tequila, and limes
to simpler times

when we were still finding our way;

thought we knew it all
we'd perpetually fall

taking the scenic route in life's maze.

We knew of no fear
while learning to steer

flying high by the seats of our pants;

we lived without care
considered each dare

we played hard, and we all learned to dance.

We sure had our fill
of good times, if you will

and each lesson truly played with our hearts;