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Flight One Nineteen And Holding.

Updated on December 3, 2009

Flight #119 and holding...

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My Dad's

almost eighty now
he's a reflection
though somewhat

faded of me
in some

short years
yet to pass.

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Our Mom's

and Dad's

tend to be

a mirror of flesh

one can see a bit

of thier tomorrows

in the grandness

of their parents.

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Time flys...

it's true
and we are

all passengers
booked on

one way fares
to various

destinations
that's a given.

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Plus we all

have reservations

about going

too soon....

or not having

enough money

when we start

planning to go.

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But Dad and I
have both earned
frequent flyer miles
out the wazoo.

 

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Together with the

large amount of time's

journeys we've shared,

we've accumulated well

over a hundred years worth.

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But we don't dare
trade them in.

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Nope...we're saving 'em up
for that one really big trip....

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Cause heaven is
a long way off I hear.......

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and hell is just a terminal
full of angry people
who've been bumped down to
Standby and sweat.

<>

©-MFB III

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