Increments

I set my milestones at fifteen years,

It drove my friends insane.

“Why do you rush to the future,

When so many years remain?”

I hated Baskin Robbins,

Three dollars for a single cone…

I could go to Safeway,

And take one gallon home.

I refused to go to concerts,

And pay ten dollars for a beer.

I watched ball games on my TV,

With a same price 12 pack near.

I’m sixty-five years old now,

Imagining I am eighty years old.

The fifteen-year equation,

Can’t buy back the times I’ve sold.