wish it was ninety-eight again

how about a slice of life
with something to look forard to
when N-sixty-fours were the rage
and concern was carefree
where the cool kids road bikes
and profanity was new
using 'f-bombs' here
and 'a-holes' there
when mom made cookies
and dad was working
earning his nine to five

living was simple
with the streets so quiet
where the trees blew wind
and the suburbs grew grass
on sundays to mass
where the priest preached
a life of solitude
a consideration for soul
and god stood humbling
of the future in ten years

wish it was ninety-eight again.