Growing
Old
Like the
calm of a storm
You wait
and grow old
As all turns
to brass
What used
to be gold
Your time
has more speed
Than the
days of the past
And you
realize your time
May be coming
at last
Ah! But
you've seen some good days
And for
that you are glad
You've laughed
with the happy
And cried
with the sad
You fought
in two wars
That were
senseless, you knew
And you
lost a close friend
Who died
next to you
You worked
with white collars
And you
never took sick
And you've
worked with the muscle
Of shovel
and pick
You courted
your wife
In a vest,
suit and tie
You were
a sheltered cocoon
To your
three butterflies
But now
days seem more cloudy
And the
seasons, all cold
You know
it seems like a crime
For a man
to grow old
You can
look back and gloat
Of a life
opportune
But it's
hard to deny
That your
time will come soon
written
in 1984
Copyright
© 1997 by Luke Jennings, All rights reserved
