Old Guy Desires

I still look through young man’s eyes, though skin and bones are aging, my mind’s eye disagrees with it, despite what mirrors displaying. How could I have these coltish thoughts, "I should be out there playing," some say it’s time to pack it in, and spend more time with praying. This can't be, I shall not let, existence be simply delaying, the inevitable, the lonely slide, death’s scythe intense belaying. So off I go to enjoy romp, though hair is quickly graying, rather spend my time sowing, than on the winter haying.