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Rated: E · Poetry · Adult · #1173327
Putting myself in the place of being old. Written in my early forties. ABAAB 9syl. lines
Back to the window, I sit and glare.
Remembering days of carefree ease.
I'm just sitting in my rocking chair.
Now I watch the world pass by and stare.
When we were young, easier to please.

Wouldn't let pain slow us down, we're fine.
Run around, climb then jump off our shed.
Not knowing then at that certain time.
We'd never be closer to our prime.
Knock on wood no broken bones, just bled.

Wanderlust of our youth now to fade.
Though the final price is still unclear.
The total taxes on bodies made.
By everyone, this will have been paid.
Until our bodies will not change gear.

I'd say that life was better than fair.
To look back at all we did as kids.
So here I sit in my rocking chair.
Back when our lessons were learned with care.
Of all the dares and raising the bids.
© Copyright 2006 Thaddeus Buxton Winthrop (franksimon at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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