I suppose we were like
that once, thought we knew
the wisdom of the world,

thought sex was our invention
and domain, felt strong
and worldly, but would we

want it all the same again?
Youth seems a long hill to climb,
the gradient at a steady level,

the view ahead seems far away,
the path behind not far,
the sights seen seem fresh

and new, ideas blundering
through the brain, moral bound
or not, yet would we want it

all the again, the joy, the loss
and pain? The hill is steep
the other side, the final years

go swiftly by, all things seen
and heard so much before,
but would we wish the circus

once again, in jest, before we die?
I look(ed) in
the clouds
and search(ed) for dragons.

they dance(ed)
and love(ed)
and sang above me.

I laugh(ed) and cry(ied)
all night, and in day
I look(ed) for dragons.

Up, up up
up in the clouds I look(ed)
to where they say(id)
I can find my dragons.

but now I'm old(er0
and sad(der)
and i'm afraid

as I look(ed) up
that I've lost my dragons.
losing youth childhood and some of the wonder
As reward for my patient years
Of sorrow, laughter, joy and tears
Life's handed me (to my surprise)
A "me" I cannot recognise

Her hands are bigger to catch pain
That weighs her down like heavy rain
Her eyes brighter, so she can see
The world I found a mystery

Her heart's stronger than ever mine
So she will handle life just fine
But there's so much she doesn't know
And so much more she needs to grow

So, when I think of years of yet
I remind her to not forget
That though she stands a better chance
One day she'll need a stronger stance
I wrote this when I was 16 because I always saw the ways in which I could continue to improve although I appreciated my growth.
We are the Men who drop our pants!

We are the Men who drop our pants!
We are the Men who drop our pants!
We are the Men who drop our pants!

because
at our age
we can,
fall
Kuvar Feb 16
Old age taught me a forceful humility
That my spine bows to both men and trees
The wrinkles on my face sunk down my smile
Making it impossible to give a happy face
Hopeless of a grin since my teeth obituary
It is not about the dying body that you imagine
But the good young days I played away in the bin
This Rotten Crispy reward of a wayward youth
© Kuvar
Maria Etre Feb 16
I lost
myself
in the me's
that have clothed
me through these
30 years

How can you love "you"
knowing there are
so many?
Terry Collett Feb 16
I guess after all those years,
Doris thought her marriage would last,
that they would settle down
to old age and decay together,
but he had gone astray,
had found some other,
someone younger,
someone who had an appetite
for his wealth, an eagerness
to suck him of it and her;
in the last resort
of him and both.

Her children,
one son and daughter,
were grown now
and had children of their own,
not that she saw them that often,
just now and then
or maybe when.

It had come out of the blue,
to use friend Mavis's term,
quite unexpectedly,
and who had told her?
Or had she guessed?

She sits in the room
where once they both sat,
sipping the Earl Grey.

She wonders what
he thought of it,
this situation,
him going off like that,
and with her,
that younger woman,
that wealth grabber,
and him unable to see
what she is after.

He had been full of excuses,
full of blaming others
and not himself,
trying to justify his betrayal.

I sit opposite her,
sipping the Earl Grey,
seeing how unhappy she is,
how her dyed hair is showing
the grey once more,
the lines pushing through
despite the make-up
and beautifying.

She had phoned me
and asked me
to call around.

She has blurted it out
in an emotional outburst.

She trusts me as vicar
to take it in and offer advice
or just to listen
while she sounds off.

I offer advice
and gave ear
to her outpourings.
I sip the warm tea,
take in the emptiness
and sorrow.

I guess,
as we sit and talk
in soft voices(she have calmed),
I will see her in church,
in her front pew,
tomorrow.
We've been told the fables
the myth, every prince, princess
overcoming the odd's at tables
of being King or Queen

Knowing that, just labels
all the knowledge gleaned
worthless and yet, still priceless
tokens, not redeemed

Succumbing as we got older
changing out the gears
losing fantasies and dreams
un-comprehending through the years

The world now much bitter, colder
realizing all of our fears
youth never as it seemed
consuming dragon tears
Sometimes, I wish I had never grown up :|
Iska Feb 12
although age in and of itself
does not declare experience
or the depth of knowledge one has gained
and in my opinion is silly for anyone
to think otherwise
I'm always told
"your so wise for one so young."
Or
"oh I remember what it was like to be 19
and think you know the world."
Yet what they refuse to acknowledge
is that in 19 short years,
I may have experienced both
horrors and beauty
that they have yet to dream let alone see.
Who is to say that age is a boundary of the mind?
That inexperience creates an age divide?
Who are they to claim that we would be consumed
when they have yet to wander in our beaten old shoes?
Who are they to judge me of a story
they have yet to hear?
All becuse they refuse to lend an ear?
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