Bottled
He lost it so completely
As if his early work
Was written by an ex-girlfriend
As if wearing the same look
Thirty years later
Could bring anything back
For him, much the less, us
We still read his interviews
For some acknowledgement
Of the betrayal; his arrogance
Never serves him here
Always promising a return to form
In his case it was never
Youthful energy
That interested
It was wisdom
Beyond his years
That never returned
Now that he's arrived there
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