Youth Walks By

Could it, can it, must it be
Have I reached the age,
Where staying up past ten o’clock
Has marked a turning page

There must be some confusion,
Surely a mistake,
I’m the one who lived for fun
Who wrote a different fate

It wasn’t going to be like this
Sleep was for the others,
Those who kept all things routine
A life I swore would smother

I’m the girl who raised a glass
At every chance to party,
Dancing on the beach ‘til 2:00
Never safe or sorry

But now I have to come to terms
With how my days are changing,
Knees that creak and hips that burn
Memories rearranging

I often stare as youth walks by
All limitless and blind,
To just how fast it disappears
This flirting brush with time

But something else I glimpse, I see
Deep in tender eyes,
Confusion underneath it all
Searching truth for lies

My younger self lacked confidence
Though knees could bend with ease,
I’d pour a glass of bravery
Try desperately to please

Men I never should have loved
Paths that led to nowhere,
Dreams I’d dream, too scared to try
A private, loathing nightmare

Would I choose to raise once more
A glass and journey back,
I’d rather ache from head to toe
And quietly hit the sack.

~ Leana Delle
Sunday, February 24, 2019
Number seven of fifty-two in my 2019 Sunday Poetry Challenge.

Sculpture, “Kathy” by Susan Kay Johnson

1 Comment

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  1. Surely not autobiographical, but with sensitive and well-flavored insight.

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