Do we all really change that much as we age? (IInd Prize winner Oct PWW!) |
Author's Note:Written for Round 7 of "Project Write World" . The poem follows the following prompt: We grow neither better nor worse as we get old, but more like ourselves. -Mary Lamberton Becker BETTER OR WORSE, THIS IS ME ALL RIGHT! One fine day I sat down to think - And a hard day of thought that was; I went back to my past, and reflected, Of the time gone by, I suppose. I grew up restless and eager To do things never done before, As time went by, however, I grew contented to the core. I read, wrote and studied, Telling few lies and seldom swearing, Learning by rote, teaching only some, Hardly did anything daring. I tried to emulate heroes, And jived, danced, sang and ran, Walked, talked, did things crazy - As with dad, spoke man to man. Now, I am older and perhaps wiser, Living on my own terms, happy but sere, I hug all my enemies, And shun all I held dear. It is as if the wheel of my life, Has turned a circle tight, For better or for worse, This is me, all right. |