In My Day
¶ 1
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The faces look the same
The scarves still red
The shirt with the beloved crest
Just above the heart
And the songs
The songs keep the chords
But change the verses
In between Macdonalds fodder
Come the words
Wrapped in Ketchup and Burgers
Nike trainees splattered and fussed over
And my Father’s Ghost thunders with indignation
“How much?”
And I look up to the heavens through
The haze of sponsorship logos
And smile, silently.
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