I thought I'll not go on after sixty one,
but now I'm here and the fear is I will,
yes
age is the bitter pill we swallow when life
has left us lined and feeling hollow,
used up like a matchstick that's been burnt.
Sixty two will have to do or maybe three, I'll wait and see.
If you believe we never leave
and just move to another plane
I for one don't blame you
but
I'd rather move the
goalposts.
Feb 16, 2018
Feb 16, 2018 at 12:00 PM UTC
I thought I'll not go on after sixty one,
but now I'm here and the fear is I will,
yes
age is the bitter pill we swallow when life
has left us lined and feeling hollow,
used up like a matchstick that's been burnt.
Sixty two will have to do or maybe three, I'll wait and see.
If you believe we never leave
and just move to another plane
I for one don't blame you
but
I'd rather move the
goalposts.
Request permission to use this poem