I sometimes wish I were old.
Just to know that everything went okay.
Just to look back with a sane smile at the hard times,
To know the answers to the doubts that gorged on my wonder and made my fingernails bleed,
To see the silver and copper trail of a carefully built path laid behind me, and feel unafraid.

I sometimes wish I were old.
To finally see that I did just as well as my parents,
To realize that its really not such a big deal after all,
That change creeps up on you without you noticing its etches on your ways,
To see with wisdom just how far I have come.

I sometimes wish I were old,
To enjoy basking in those memories,
The warm copper ones as well as the cold silver blue,
And enjoy them because of how much they cost me,
How much I thought I knew.

I think I'd have a party.
Or at least a solitary drink in my honor.
I would take a few minutes to get lost in those thoughts,
and who knows even remember writing this poem.

And for sure I'd shudder at the thought of its weakness,
and at how I cool I thought I was,
And how I completely misimagined it.
And how age isn't silver at all.