Lamenting Age
So few poets lament about age
As if they fear when they reflect
They become aware of the change
And will shed their tears unwept
I can tell that I am growing
As with every waking day
My body keeps on slowing
And my vigour starts to stray
How I hate my changing body
How my limbs are rearranged
And the joy I once embodied
Is being swept away by change
I hope I don’t forget my girlhood
When I’m lamenting all the years
When my speech is misunderstood
And my tales fall onto deaf ears
I hope I don’t forget my girlhood
There is no tragedy quite as sad
As forgetting where you once stood
What kind of life you used to have
Not mourning all the years escaped
This feeling haunts me day and night
I feel violated raped
By the clock hanging out of sight
Counting down the days, my life, my time
Until my final breath I take
And the clock will make its final chime
As I lie there in faux wake
That little girl I miss I mourn
Oh I know she lurks within
She has been with me since I was born
She lives far beneath my skin
She is dressed in tights and wellie boots
A brown dress with polka dots and stripes
Her fingers stained by fresh fruits
Her knees muddied from hikes and bikes
She laughs too loud and talks even louder
Her hair is a startling white
She has this magic running through her
That brings the room some light
And then became a mirror ball
A mere reflection of that girl
And from her pedestal I fell
Down down down in some shy swirl
Until I remerged after years
A very different girl
Not a girl who hid in fear
But one who welcomed in the world
I am that wellie wearing girl once more
With volume and with pride
I am the lively girl from before
I am who I was deep inside
You asked me why poets fear
Age and growing old
I believe it is that they have no idea
Of how to keep a young and childish soul