Wrinkly And Gray

I am very young in spirit, never weak: guess my actual age?
I keep a positive outlook by avoiding negativeness and rage!
Twenty years from now, I'll be wrinkly and gray losing more hair than today;
I'll spend hours in devoted prayer, molding real faces out of plaster and clay!
Anywhere in the lovely Italian countryside emotions seem to rise from inside,  
I'll sit and paint those life-like images singing an aria from Madame Butterfly:
thinking of New York's friendly faces and that girl who never became my bride,
but staring at the ticking watch will increase sadness, minutes will not speed by! 
Can anyone imagine how I'll react when all the hearts I've broken
will finally smile and feel some empathy, although vivid is their memory?
Time, distance and forgiveness won't allow bitterness to reawaken...
isn't this something everyone should reflect upon and think it thoroughly?
For now, any sad thought on being old must be put aside;
all I can hope for is getting there on the smoothest ride!

   
Written on 4/ 23/2017



Copyright © | Year Posted 2017




Post Comments
Please Login to post a comment

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.