Fourty

Forty years and what do I have to show? 

A whole lot of heartache, 

Too many dreams I let go. 

A lot of tears I've cried, 

Feelings of worthlessness, 

A lot of hope that's died.

Bad poetry written late at night, 

Long after I should be asleep, 

I'm kept awake by this eternal fight. 

Feelings of pity and sorrow. 

Wondering if I will ever be good enough, 

Hoping for a happy tomorrow

Fourty years  with nothing to show. 

What next? 

I just don't know. 

I guess I should try to right all I've done wrong, 

Throw my depression right out the door, 

Before another 40 years is gone. 

Cause when my time is up, only my memory will be left behind. 

I don't want to be forgotten

The hands of time don't have a rewind

Fourty years, I've wasted now. 

What do I have to give the world? 

Bad poetry, a few broken dreams,

I must move on somehow. 

Throw all my pity out the door 

Live the dreams that still remain. 

Smile and pray for Fourty more. 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Growing up is optional  but growing old is mandatory 

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