I was once you; agile and quick
My back was strong
My hair; neat and slick
My eyes beheld far and near
My ears did not falter
My heart did not fear
Day wanes and sweet nightfall beckons us all
How do you evade its alluring call?
Dancing and dodging, so spritely and sure
Its shadowy minions can’t have you, still pure.
You start the ignition, place your foot on the pedal.
If I only I was a machine,
Renewed by pieces of metal.
But I am not; my meter runs dry;
I struggle to hold my held up high.
Yet as I sit in the passenger seat,
Growing ever cynical,
I can think back on many a feat,
When I was as at my pinnacle:
Of both tries and distinctions;
Oh many I did score!
Of mixtures and titrations;
so many I did pour!
Of a scarred country left
And three children raised
Of appointments kept
And a wife never phased
Of money earned
And lessons learned,
Of success tasted
and chances wasted.
My life’s pitcher brims to the peak,
Weighing me down, making me weak.
But you my grandson have it all yet to do
And so, I mutter softly to you,
“Yes, the clock, it must tick
But I was once you; agile and quick.”
– Niall Hurley
Featured image: Old_Cathedral_May09 by Ian via Flickr under Creative Commons license 2.0