PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

barricaded well within his own tired muse
thinks back on life so carefully
'The Old Child'
bright as he once was quick
while scraping to just get by
with nothing more than his wits
ponders softly
The Old Child
merriment berated
along side a house full of memories
long since dilapidated
topples heavily now upon
The Old Child
where moments of marked splendor
once gauge visions so very tender
they now battle loftily within
The Old Child
disasters they may grumble
or turn about to be humble
still simple melancholy further rejects
The Old Child
so with good book in slightly shaken hand
understandably to help withstand
heading up those all too familiar stairs now
slouches most splendidly
The Old Child
and when he alas is settled into his creaky
canopy bed
disembodied memories give in to the faithful
sleep of the dead
while still so very tightly holding his own
nods off gently
The Old Child
so daring young knaves
ye beware
for even the too easily forgotten
tend to gray fair
as all come to bow before each his own
natural limits
just like
The Old Child.....
(June 2, 1995)