To let go of your dreams is to be the true walking dead. Lovely poem. Don’t think of getting old but as more life experience to write about.
September’s a grand month, eh?
I sit, looking at my reflection in the mirror
One year older, another year added
Age is just a number they tell me
Nothing to be concerned about
It’s how you feel inside that matters
Then some days I must be 105
I see the silver in my hair
New lines in my face
Wondering how did I manage to get this far
What happened to all my plans? Dreams?
Now I seem stuck, here in the land of numbers
Neither can I go back nor forward, yet.
Life has not been easy, still I have been blessed
I am alive, able to see dreams become reality
No matter the number in my age
My dreams never fade, not really
Some just become more important than others
They shift, like the sands in my internal hourglass
I may be older, we all age if we are lucky
View original post 168 more words