Life In The Eighties
How frail we become if given half a chance
to be a part of everything
to watch the miracle of life.
A child born then he becomes a man,
while some go too soon;
we make sense if we can,
we weather the seasons and grow old with friends
then find in the paper they too found their ends,
we stand on our porches and look at the sky,
we pray for an answer then wonder the why.
Some of us stay a bit longer it seems,
some leave at halftime,
while some in their dreams.
Been watching the eyes of a few elder souls
and weigh with their thoughts if they have any goals;
health starts to fail,
we ache and we ail
and so goes the tale as life fades away
one wonders what I’ll do on my final day.
John Breska 05/2012


Salon.com
Comments
thanks Rita and thanks for getting me to write more short stories than I ever imagined. ;)