Sixteen is the age to
write poetry
You’re fearless and
alone at night
You know your enemy
When you’re sixty
there have been
Too many lovers
Too much living, too
many scenes
Your words and
thoughts finessed
By tenderness
By experience, by
bitterness
A lifetime is too
long to tell one story
There’s time enough to
re engage
To reach an end as
satisfactory
To step out on
another stage
Blinking in some
other glory
Shrug off the puzzlement
and rage
Those other things
fade with the night
Gain true perspective
Its going to be all
right.
