Fourteen
I'm bored now even of things I like
Skateboard, video game and bike
They can no longer fill the hole
Within me waiting for a goal
Worthy of the name - I'm ready to take on
Life, work and love, now childhood's gone
I can't grow old in time
Forty
The mirror tells me lies about my face
Shows a stranger in my place
Weathered, bruised and richly lined
Age's spell is fought off by my mind
I reject the world of slippers, tea and talk
Weekly routine, the Sunday morning walk
I can't grow old with time
Eighty
As I watch my body to twist and shrink
I need time with room to sit and think
Time to wallow in regret
Time to remember, time to forget
Time to place thoughts in a row
And leave them tidy when I go
I can't grow old without time
2 comments:
Three views indeed. I like the way each piece comes back around to the "time" line - very cyclical, like the path of the hour hand on a clock.
"Age's spell is fought off by my mind"
seems off by a beat
Yes, I hate that line - I'll have to fix it, somehow.
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