The leaves, they turn their
rust and gold
& The Autumn cold sets in
I'll be turning the big 40
When October comes again
It's crazy to me that I've lived this long
and in another 10, it'll be half a century
I call myself an old man now,
But I'll REALLY be old then
Fifteen months ahead of me,
A steady hand I couldn't see.
When all the world was dark and cold,
You held the shelter I could hold.
Through foster doors and shifting ground,
You were the anchor that I found.
You raised me up, you stood up tall,
And kept me safe through it all.
Now high school starts, the days move fast,
I act out on the days gone past.
I give you grief, I make you sigh,
And let my attitude run high.
But suddenly the smoke gives way,
I see the debt I cannot pay.
The hidden burdens that you bear,
The quiet ways you show you care.
I see it now, the truth is clear:
You’ve been my strength through every year.
I’m sorry for the noise I make
Thank you for every step you take.
Her and I have never coexisted in the same timeline.
So why do I miss her warmth,
Her scent,
Her embrace,
Her smile?
I miss her more than words could explain.
I miss her very being,
As if we were inseparable—
Yet I've never even met her.
Not even once.
Being the first can be a lonely role.
So perhaps I yearn for her presence because, if she were here,
She would relieve me of this crown forced upon my head.
I yearn to be called her little sister,
Even if it meant she had to carry the crown
And bear the role of being The First.
I am selfish. I know.
But my yearning for an older sister's love
Is greater than my selflessness.
I would gladly settle for the middle—
The forgotten—
If it meant I no longer had to bear the crown of The First.
For once,
I want to be the comforted
And not the comforter.
But in this lifetime,
She and I will never coexist in the same timeline.
For the universe deemed she was too good for this world,
And I...
I became the rightful heir
To the crown of The First.
Can’t run like I once could
I’m soft where I used to be hard
And hard where I used to be soft.
There’s less and less hair on my head
But more and more hair
In my ears
Up my nose
And my eyebrows need mowing
What’s with that?
Aching joints tell me rain’s coming
I don’t care much for going out anymore
Quite happy to be at home
With my dog.
I’ve experienced joys and heartache
But I’ve come to understand the true value of
LOVE.
I never thought I would do so well with an older man
He understands me better than any young man can
He's done with lies and toying with a woman's mind
He's looking for love from a lady of a certain kind
Its a privilege to know that I'm someone he likes
That im someone with whom he wants to spend his life
He fondles my thoughts and heart because he's very expressive
When he shares his words of experience it's very impressive
He listens to my words with his heart and not with his ears
He's not afraid to open up and tell me what he fears
He takes nothing for granted and he appreciates me
Helping me grow into the woman that I would like to be
He treats me like a gem and gives me protection
Hes very gentle with me and shows me affection
He does these things in a way that I never experienced before
When I experienced him romantically he touched me to the core
He has a way with me that takes my breath away
He sends my pulses running in every single way
He's has captured my heart because he's different from the rest
He's much older, true, but his love is the best
If I had it my way I would choose him all over again
I'm amazed I'm so compatible with this older man.
New LARGER numbers
not sure I quite like the fit
brain not good with it!
Time and tide they do not wait,
We all have heard it said,
And there are those who seem to view,
The ebb and flow with dread.
They do their best to stave it off,
And live in deep denial,
Trying not to show their age,
Viewing it as a trial;
A tribulation of some sort,
A thing to be avoided;
Forgetting in their quest for youth,
That age can be exploited;
For with age comes experience,
The younger folks don't have,
Things that you have done before,
Is to them enclave;
A thing to them as yet untried,
Is foreign territory.
They'll listen to your wisdom,
And practiced oratory;
For things that to the younger set,
Appear a mystery,
For older folks is just old hat,
And it's just history;
So if we learn to use our age,
Accept it as a friend,
We'll age as does fine wine and so,
Not face a bitter end.
We have to learn to face some facts,
That some things must betide,
For you can run from age My Dear,
But you can never hide.
A mother's love,
wings of a dove,
will cover me.
Starting my life,
with a midwife,
a baby cries.
Growing older,
always for me,
loving shoulder.
Life without you,
I cry daily,
so very blue.
When I am older I will be a ninja warrior
Sneaking into old folk’s homes in the evening
Maybe even during their naps in the afternoon
I will make angry guttural noises
Throw my weight around
I will carve up their curtains and their lamp shades
Jump up and down on their beds
Terrorizing and terrifying them
Nurses will have to chase me out
When I am older
Age is just a number if your body doesn't feel it
Aging
the bones know it
and the body feels it
everything works together still
fifties
when lights are dimmed and sunsets turn opaque
who’ll be there to tell you “i told you so”?
i know i’d win crying contests
and all my mind does is protest
“why did i wish to grow older?”
now i’m scared that i’m older
as time goes by, older people get nostalgic mood and memories!
lovely lively lithe lambs leaping
making merry without peeping
nurtured by nature’s natural safekeeping
older sheep’s aged joints are creaking
pleasure in seeing little lambs, they’re seeking
I think a lot about the world surrounding me,
As I get older,
The way I’m the bent product of two straight lines of soldier.
The way Atlas holds up the globe on just his shoulder.
The way the paint grips the canvas like a child holding on to his father.
It's strange; the way I think of the leaves,
As I get older.
But now I’m at an age where I’m thinking of adult concepts and eventuality,
I think about tax season — what what I’ll buy with the money,
I think of overseas — try and learn why people can't reach neutrality,
I think of wars, and blood on beaches,
Fake peace and victory speeches,
I think of the kids whos pain only matches the screeches —
Of tires and tares,
On runaway fares,
Paying tolls on roads I long forgot didn’t fall.
My friend got into an accident this fall.
There he sits — Hospital bed,
Wandering eyes to white walls filled with dread,
Legs broken so he can’t even wander the white halls — wishing he wasn’t stuck in bed.
And my mind is over on the side, wishing I could be dead.
I spent years of my life just wondering —
“Is this the older I get?”
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