Time is money isn’t everything in it’s place and a place for everything counts count your blessings and don’t count your chickens before they’ve hatched especially if you put all your eggs in one basket case of mistaken identity is not your own you are your own fears the enemy within the hour of your death comes calling of the wild in the streets are paved with gold which it isn’t even though it glitters like a diamond in the rough riders on the storm of the century 21 is the legal drinking age of innocence lost and found a penny picked it up and all day long I had good luck of the draw upon experience is the best teacher may I be excused
Boulder Weekly accepts poetry and flash fiction submissions at 450 words/35 lines or fewer and accompanied by a one sentence bio of the author. Send to poetry@boulderweekly.com.
