Reminiscing

In my younger years of poverty I would often say,
'I'm glad I'm not rich...
I'd probably kill myself within a year of over-indulgence'
Well...
I've never been rich, but I've definitely over-indulged
And I wonder how far I pushed my luck
Anyway

I once struggled to accept
That one day I'd
'Grow old and die'
I've come to terms with mortality since
Though I'm not sure about the
'Old' part!
How presumptuous of me!

I used to assert that I'd
'Live fast, die young,
Leave an ugly corpse'
Then I developed a sense of self-preservation
A consideration of consequences
Caustic causal factors
Fear forged from fatherhood
It wasn't all about me anymore.

Still, I have sworn that I would not become
'Stuck in my ways'
Aged
With masks of task and toil
Waxing, waning
Mellowing, aging
Worrying, waiting
Normality, morality saturating
Self-assertions of individuality
Yet the more i age,
The longer I worry and wait

I once believed I could look death in the eye
Bold and defiant
A free man amongst the silent
Yet now I think I'd hide

I recall stating that if were told I would die
Of slow debilitating disease
I'd opt for suicide
To avoid pointless pain
Now I'm not so sure
I'd relinquish fragile flesh
Before I was wheeled away screaming
Pleading for another day

The older I get
The more I pray for a resurgence
Nihilistic, anarchistic tendencies
I toy with hedonism, narcissism
As I fondly fondle
Recalling
'Nothing to lose' attitude
Things that helped me survive
When I had no way to gain
Though I know this cannot be contrived
And I wonder
Is this how people
'Grow old and die?'

Reviews

[Samuel Dickens]

Speaking from my own experience, these thoughts are not unusual. As we age, mature, and grow wiser, we change our views and priorities about many things, or at least we should. Someone said of the last American president that he believed the same thing on wednesday that he believed on monday, no matter what happened on tuesday. (Not good!)
Good writing, Spence.

[cest la vie]

This is outstanding, Spence..
You have nailed it.. bulls eye..dead center.. the target of this cycle called life.
I mean everything you touched on has been a resident of my thoughts at some point or another..
really good stuff this is..