Poems from my Archives – 1/18/2012

The year is now twenty twelve
Is that significant you may ask
only to those whose age extends
beyond that when the tasks
of running and jumping and being young
and loving and laughing has long passed.
Until all that is left in this shell of a man
are desires and thoughts and memories when
all of those things he was able to do
he does through others unbeknownst to them
he lives off their youth and absorbs their hunger
for life even though they haven’t a clue
that by his teaching, sharing and playing too
is yet another way for him to hide
growing old before his time.

Young and old and in between
we are all living the impossible dream
of that day when our maker must face
and we can say that in our place
we did run and jump and play with the best
and when the time came we did not rest
but passed on what we had learned in our life
that others may learn and without strife
our place to take in this world of life.


© Francis Allcorn
Photo Artist