Middle-Aged Man

He woke to find his nose and throat were bleeding;
Another day from day in blur succeeding,
Of waistline grown, and hairline fast receding,
Amid the whirl of strange called “middle age”.

His vanity loomed larger in its weakness:
An ego not prepared to go in meekness —
A story old and stale in non-uniqueness,
A fate too common to be met with rage.

We all believe, though many voice their doubting,
That we’re immortal: sanctity soon outing
This deathly, earthly life that leaves us shouting –
That death is freedom, and all life, a cage —

His wordless plea, a wasted, vain convection:
An empty soul, trapped in his own reflection


 

(“Middle-Aged Man” – 3-15-2017)

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5 Thoughts to “Middle-Aged Man

  1. too soon old and too late wise-dust to dust-hope faith and charity(love) and the greatest of these is Love.
    we’re all in this boat together- No man is an island- Keep writing.
    Love,
    Angel in the dust

  2. There’s a bleeding nose and throat elephant in this room… I hope this ripening man is nonetheless mostly alright.

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