Advancing years come quick.

Just a pure and earnest fact—

Just what will come of dear ‘ol me

When senescence attacks?

 

Before you really know it, you

Have wasted all your youth.

That motivates me every day

To search and seek the truth.

 

But still there are some wisdoms in 

The rash decisions of

Youthful indiscretion and

A certain type of love. 

 

Lessons that we take with us

The balance of our days.

Bruised and battered but alive 

Not just a passing phase.

 

Failure is a feature it’s the

Only way to grow.

Failure is the only way

To know we need to know.

 

I’d really rather fade than age.

To simply disappear,

Seems a kinder way to go.

A different type of fear—

 

But oh to have the wisdom that

Collected years provide.

Is wisdom wasted on the ones

All agèd and blear-eyed?