As I’m getting older my body decays and moulders
With slumped shoulders I’ve become more cold and
less bolder cause it’s going to be over, time waits for no one and
I’m no young soldier
47 years young
My life is half sung my lyrics are fading
As I’m overcome cause my sons are grown ones, living their own lives now
They don’t need their mum my job is done
The years have gone by in a blink, I feel like all I have done is think
About life and how to milk it
Find the dream and cream it but life hasn’t turned out the way I hoped
I’m in a no man’s land, afloat, wondering
What’s the plan? What’s my purpose? To what should I turn my hand?
And life’s meaning eludes me
I’ve mediated, medicated, educated and procreated
Travelled, read, painted and yet
I still feel adrift like a windless ketch, a songless bird on a ledge
The missing pawn in a chess set I’m like a dice-less board game
With no real achievement
to my name that I can claim
See…what’s left for me?
I’m becoming greyer my body’s weightier
As it gathers baggage
A 25year marriage and being middle class average
for me there’s no crystal palace or pumpkin glass carriage
So, you find me here in the land of classes
The institute of educated smart arses
Trying to establish
If words could manifest chances
for me to find
The person I could be
Among the stanzas I write for answers
Of my circumstances
cause quite frankly
What other option is there
(Drop Mic)
Rachel Goodman
Waikanae, NZ
