15 JUL 2018 AT 11:34

I Think

I'm a fifteen-year kind of man.
I'm the balding grey of lost memories,
A lottery of sorts
You could play everyday.
You could pull at my strings,
Tune me up
To hear me sing
"I love you" still
In the faint echo of
'Hello,
Is it me you're looking for?'

(please read caption for the entire poem)

- navoneil.com