Reflections

Some day, when I am old and grey,
I will reflect on these lines
As a memory of the good times
I had in my younger days.

Some time, when I am past my prime,
I will look upon these pages,
A relic of the ages
When dreams were mine.

What dreams did I have then?
An exciting occupation,
And upper-middle-class station,
And a family, but when

I look at these lines, in distant times,
Will my dreams have become truth?
Or just a fantasy of youth?
Despite my tries.

And will I grow old? Will I be so bold
As to take a firm stance,
Defy my circumstance,
And never grow old?

Or when I'm grown up, will I leave it to luck,
Although it was said,
By the voice in my head:
"Never grow up, child, never grow up."

October 6, 1996