Aging Poems - Poems about Aging

When I was young I didn’t think In terms of accomplishment I guess my ego wasn’t developed enough To have the perspective and appreciation To consider it all worthwhile, but I also think those childhood achievements Pleased my parents more than myself. By the time I was done with school What I accomplished were the simply things I did just living...

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I’m really aging well they say But I really don’t care The older I get the less I’m afraid Of not fitting in My hair has yet to gray I’m old enough for it to But I guess I must wait For wisdom line and frosted roots I’m forcing myself to go out As I’ll stay inside happily writing But I know that’s...

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ache lingers close a soft breath where pain once roared— gentle thief of hurt ...

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I hasten to say, It's been longer than yesterday. A time of less talk about pains; A youthful time of haste and gains. It wasn't right; it wasn't wrong. For a pleasant season, all must belong And feel at home with being young. But all seasons end, and new ones begin. I no longer dream of travelling. I'm 'at home' with being at home. I'm...

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So I turned 21 And I couldn’t help but feel That the dreams I once had Began to slowly seal That every birthday after this I sink further into the mundane And the painful truths that await But hey… “no pain, no gain” Even good ol’ Christmas time All the love and holiday cheer Floats away for every candle that’s blown As the magic becomes less...

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An Ice Fishing House, Abandoned, in Need of Repair That same shed waits by the trees. Waits on its skids for the lake to freeze, and the for the creaking joints of bickering stoop-shouldered men as they push it out to the center of a pool of glass. It houses the stories of fishing in winter, pulling sustenance, wriggling, through chiseled portals into another...

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And We should not be here in the first place: in last place in the worst space. This Earth! The Disgrace! But should we be here at the right time: at due time at the fine line. This Life! The Great Race! So Save yourself: a piece Of peace in one hand. Still Stick to what your gut Would: want at one hand. For There is a proper place for Everything: A place to live, And a...

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It feels like I’ve been around too long. Every tune has become the same old song. Every plight’s just a fight to no end cuz there’s no way to win. And I can’t help but notice as I’m growing old - I believe less and less of what I’m told. Cuz the world’s nothing more than an endless round of spin. Every voyage...

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The great big oak tree casts off his coat while the rest of us put ours on, Throwing down the golden-brown piles of spiky leaves, A dance floor for the couple everyone’s talking about. It’s their time now, their time in the pallid sun! And sure, Holly might make a scene, berry-ripe in snow, like children’s faces, But her slender...

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Aging Problems with my joints Problems with insomnia Problems with my memory Problems with my concentration Problems with my energy levels Problems with my taste buds Problems with desire Getting old is one big problem One problem after another This problem isn’t for the faint of heart Well, at least I am still alive And able to write bad poetry!! ...

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If wisdom could come from a joyless life of a hundred years where love's never found but hatred comes at the point of a knife, then these lines offer hope with this poem's sound. From dawn to dusk, life drifts—cold and resolved. It is...

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One thing when you get this old ~ is that your body can get so unbearably cold, because your skin gets so thin, it lets all the iciness in, and then a hot partner is worth their weight in gold....

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A breeze did slide in under eaves and stirred inside the air that grieves, my children grown my dreams have flown, alone I sit my rocking throne. My chair in front of window bare, I look… but husband’s soul elsewhere. Beneath my feet the floorboards moan, alone I sit my rocking throne. Each day I rock the same tic tock and change not...

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Dealing with one’s mortality Reveals a stark reality As you age You set the stage For you own finality Bill Marable 9/17/24 6:39 pm ...

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We are much alone when old, after lifetimes of accompaniment, of tacit support and connection from our friends and peers. Must I now label as mental failing sometime strange behaviors I exhibit? These are a consequence of long living, result in my speaking to the air, to myself and to my beloved pets. No one else is around. This becomes habitual....

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