. . . and lows . . .
Just look at the morning paper
And tell me what you see
Is something very wrong
Or maybe my eyes deceive me
Somewhere in the local section
A buried paragraph
Someone who had the time to care
And the character to act
The higher the highs
The lower the lows
The older I get
That's the way that it goes
The more that I think that I want
The less that I need
Because I realize how precious
And how short
This time with you may be
When you're young and your biggest worry's
What game you want to play
Such innocence is just surpassed
By the naivete
Take good with the worst
And better
You know they're not the same
Youth somehow brings them all together
Different they are
But subtle the shades
The higher the highs
The lower the lows
The older I get
That's the way that it goes
The more that I think that I want
The less that I need
Because I realize how precious
And how short
This time with you may be
Youth really
Is only wasted
If never
You've tasted
All the bitter
As well as sweet
I hope you don't misunderstand me
Or what I want to say
It's nothing revolutionary
Ignorance won't make this go away
Nobody likes a busybody
Nobody knows it all
There's one thing I can tell you certain
Take none for granted
Short or the tall
The higher the highs
The lower the lows
The older I get
That's the way that it goes
The more that I think that I want
The less that I need
Because I realize how precious
And how short
This time with you may be
©2000 Raymond M. Jozwiak
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