The tragedy of my being haunts me
and increasingly takes more from me
now cresting my midlife point I seethe
over the invariable moments of what
in my youthful innocence was a strut
seductively about life, an ignorant slut.
Resting upon this horrific peak of time
knowing pricelessness lost to its crime
I understand man's rise from the slime.
This mystery plagued me well then
and what I lost remains deep within
the memories making in me a wind.
Cold and bitter, biting into my soul
I exist humble on knees feeling slow
this wind of memory a ruthless mow.
Despite my acrimony over my plight
mystery, hope and beauty are right
together fusing into an inspired light.
A man is surely defined by his action
yet remember winds of complication
most strongly felt as a midlife vexation.
These times are perhaps the most difficult
For one remembers what did not result
when opportunity met this cluster phuck.
copyright (c) June 2006, RJDuberg
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