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A pocket full of plans,
Old pants with jammed zippers.
An eye that notices,
An old watch that loses time.

The old watch ticks as it wants,
The eye notices;
The mind is tempted to think
It is the eye that is stealing time.

Those old pants are all I have;
Zippers closed off before they jammed.
I could get a pair of scissors,
But the neck will want them more.

The neck because that is
How my best friend died.
The scissors because
My cousin hid away all the knives.

A maid offered me her heart,
But I would only lose it after dark.
Accepting a heart that beats my name,
Would make my hands bloody.

I’d rather stick to the old pants;
Its pockets contain treasures.
And the watch that loses time;
It makes me tick differently.

I just remembered something:

I miss the old family ring;
I should have not pawned it away.
I had plans that could pay the bills;
Jammed zippers jammed everything.

I talked to the dealer,
He said a hand and a leg.
I told him two legs
And I would need some cash back.

Without legs,
I won’t need the pants.
That way I can derail the old zippers,
And get the plans that pay the bills.

The dealer said tomorrow.
That old watch is still losing time.

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