As I grow older

As I grow older, my distress is more with me,  

more than ripest foliage and shadows of fall, 

time and circumstance make it hard to see 

that there might be more than pain’s illegible scrawl,  

that fate promises more age to age  

beyond each day’s pale, disquieting throes, 

the aubade with its chirring cadence seeks to assuage 

my fears but I dismally cling to my lows. 

Praying for a sense of rightness to prevail  

seems offensive to the nature of things  

in a world where madness condemns with righteous voices. 

I look for hope, but I just thresh and flail,  

I wish for a naïveté that inaudibly sings  

in hope’s soothing key of blessings, purpose, and choices.  

Photo by Warren Wong on Unsplash

Please visit the post if you wish to comment

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

About Me

Ordinary Person is a guy who likes to write. He writes fiction, essays, poems and other stuff.


%d bloggers like this: