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About This Poem
Old but Still Breathing in Life
Journey's end of the final leg of our life.
Our independence, our kids want to take away.
You do your things and just please let us do ours.
The youth think their elders are lapsing into apathy.
No longer caring about life or worldly things.
At our old age we've become world-weary.
Wrinkled and not as strong, but still breathing in life.
We have much insight and wisdom rather than ambition.
But the young are too busy to really listen to the old.
We are too tired and old to fight with our young.
Eccentric is whispered, we never felt so alone.
Apathy is part of growing old, a sadness of old age.
Our youth appears loud and frantic ordering us about.
Too much chaotic confusion is hard on our old brains.
We'd rather avoid conflicts and let harmony stay within.
We still have a full deck, we just shuffle it slower now.
All we ask from our young folks is patience and respect.
It's the sadness that takes us out not necessarily our age.
'A Tribute To Old Age'
For Nathan A's contest, "Any Poem"
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