Fly Away
A poem about the transition between young and old age
The young man was sitting in a boat,
rocking with little direction to steer his oar,
what does it matter when it’s darkness and midnight,
he had ran out of time and his youth had finally left him.
Its compass dissipated when he held it right there in his hand,
what was left was grains of dust,
nothing lasts forever he thought to himself.
Sunlight is helpful for navigating but in his mind its all dark,
without angels whispering into his ears,
does he follow the divine path filled with virtue once more,
can he even find it again in life?
The no longer young man thought by himself,
beating his mind blue and purple,
how do you fight life now a lot wiser,
where is the next ring to step into,
can old age hold a new purpose,
without the boxing gloves?
A fight with wisdom over brute force,
no more fools errands like searching for sunlight in darkness,
the young man began planning in darkness knowing full…
