Sometimes. A poem.

Sometimes, I feel old.

I feel the weight of years
And the stress and strain
Of injuries and tears
That make it hard to lift
Myself from bed.

It hits me, awkwardly,
When I’m lifting a box
Or philosophising alone,
Shooting through my brain
And body and bones.

Or when I see the young
Living carefree lives,
Neglecting masks
Far too selfishly,
Because “only others die.”

It’s the burden of memory
(And sometimes lack thereof)
That gets me calculating,
Writing, learning, gaming;
That fires me off and up.

It’s the strength I feel
When I hit the weights
And lift like I never have,
Watching records break
As if I were half my age.

Sometimes, I feel old.

But not today.

For more Poetry, click here.

poetry books - stevestillstanding

For more of my poetry, check out Poetry for the Sad, Lonely and Hopelessly Endangered and The All or the Nothing, available in print.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Published by stevestillstanding

I’m a writer who loves tabletop role playing games, poetry and (you guessed it) writing. Occasionally I have something to say...

9 thoughts on “Sometimes. A poem.

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