THE OLD TIMER

When the egocentric old timer  boards a plane, he then waits for no man, yes be it  to face the  race at your own pace probably at your own  place to place a space  at the the table of the grace to reduce the stress for a retrace of  the good times, but it can only be a rat race in the end, because only to his will, we,  always bend, no matter what you intend, against him, we, always fend no matter how, we, pretend, no matter the matter your person, you, can never defend.

Perfect timing delineates the  old timer like a clock about to initiate 00 on the wall, initially his faceless face goes by many names, believed to be  older the than all ages, cornier than all mages merrier when he pledges, messier when he rages, even more more tense when his image eventually  emerges.

They say some people are not half as bad. Just like his narcissistic person flies, he heals all wounds, his hurting flesh reveals all that lies, truth you seek, his tingling ticking tight touching touch never denies. 

His exasperating presence is the denouement of all days, the only soliloquy for a staged actor in plays, his three hands outbested every great man known to man, yet many have tried only to be imbued with shortcomings, no strings his promises promise yet demise, treacherously is the only way.

Sophisticated minds wrote.