I have never thought of myself,
As an old man,
With old man hands that betray me,
With old man steps that falter …
And an old man’s mind,
That no longer questions.
Yesterday has become a blur.
Was it true that not so long ago,
I was loved, and loved …
Once laughter came freely,
And I could see with clear determination,
Beyond the horizon.
Now my mirror shows a stark reality,
And in the harsh reflection,
With a small sense of acknowledgment,
That I have begun to feel every inch,
of what stares back at me.
My rest is coming with measured steps,
I do not know where or when.
The burden of this old man knowing,
Is not mine,
For I have released it all to the wind and God.
Jem © 2018
Next Week Or So … Something along the same line or something current …
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