Though I’m eighty and have survived
I’m the oldest man that never lived
My life flew by too fast for that
Each mountain climbed now seems so flat
Always a mountain yet to climb,
Even now, surely there must come a time
When life’s no longer just a test
To be passed like all the rest
Told that life should be sublime
That to waste it would be a crime
One wonders why it’s still such a struggle
Trapped inside a self-made bubble
Though I’m eighty and have arrived
I am no longer incentivized
To do anything more than sing
Words now, more than ever, are everything.
Robert King is a retired lawyer and poet living in California.
A moving thought, and nice control of form as well. Well done, and thank you for writing this!
Love Robert King’s poetry – there is a clarity and a song about his lines, and they are genuinely about the real human condition, so his poems are truly worthwhile reading: they elevate as one absorbs their resonance. Can’t wait for a full collection of his work to be out.
An insight into the soul of my father. Brought a tear to my eye. We love you for the man you are and for who you’ve become.
There is that gentle effect that expects to break from the laboured shackles of old poems and bring back the simple muse of your turning eighty.