Rosemerry wrote of regret. A taste of winning… once. Fleeting fame and a lifelong slide. One hit wonder. Wonder how my life turned out without that one big hit. Rosemerry wrote about choices. Decisions and consequences. Success or failure, which is worse? Sip the elixir now, it dries to sawdust in your throat. Rosemerry wrote of the tortoise who whupped that punk-ass hare.
A cautionary tale, Rosemerry’s, not Aesop’s. The list is endless. Nena with her luftballons. Jenny from the stall. Come on Eileen, don’t live in the past. Hustle now, get on with your life. Argue for mediocrity. Empires fall. Titans sink. Icarus plummets. Fly too high, the gods press your face in the mud. The meter stick grows longer every year, the end hovers just out of reach. Keep it close. Or strive. Or push. Or keep both feet planted in the ground. Disappointment lingers at the end of the road.