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Shit You Write When You Get To A Certain Age,

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  • Shit You Write When You Get To A Certain Age,

    Perhaps he might have loved with more passion
    And lived more dangerously than he does now,
    If he’d remembered youth was a passing fad.

    Suddenly, abruptly without warning the years have passed
    The rising sap of younger days flows less
    Like a torrent … more like a trickling stream.

    Still he gazes upon her and the others
    With no less desire than he did before,
    Wanting to add them to his cerebral harem...

    So he is forced into wondering if the
    Prey, the object of his still real desire
    Once chased then caught would be easily satisfied.

    For those most fair in face and form
    Are now too demanding in word and deed
    For one like him to hope to keep.

    Yes his flattery brings a sparkle to eyes
    A smile of thanks to soft red lips
    Yet now they seldom cling or follow him.

    Though once there was a time an era
    When these angels of beauty plotted to possess him
    As they themselves wanted him to own them.

    Now free of passions from within and without
    Searching, no wanting the rekindling of those desires
    He awaits the sleep whose awakening brings renewal.

    Would that the opiate might be swallowed now
    To hasten this slumber that brings the reincarnation
    And with it the sheer wonder of youth!
    "The embers of our past lives lie smouldering within us awaiting the winds of remembrance to fan them in flames of reality." Dax.