The Original Series
There will come a time
When I won’t know myself
The old one from the young
One that becomes
Maybe a mask for Hallowe’en
I wonder if I’ll put up
The barricade between me
And young (in years) people
Forget that I was one
And used to see me then and there
And here for a long time
And will I talk of them
As if they had just landed
From Spain or from
Another planet
And will I rail about
Their demon music
And wonder where their generation’s going
While mine was worse about direction
Or destination
C L Couch
Photo by shawn henry on Unsplash
August 5, 2020 at 10:12 pm
Christopher, I can tell from reading your blog that you are forever young. You will always be able to communicate with the young at heart.
August 10, 2020 at 1:31 am
Well, that is an amazing compliment, Len–thank you!
August 8, 2020 at 9:57 am
i believe no matter what age, your heart will remain wise and tender as it is now. but you, however, voice out the thoughts of many. i am not at my aged season yet but i surely cannot understand the young teenagers now, thinking that i was like them not so long time ago.
August 10, 2020 at 1:34 am
Thank you so much, sister, thank you. I know it’s hard to understand the very and the adolescent young, even though we were they. I start with the premise that we’re all real and go from there. Still, the process can be boggling!
August 10, 2020 at 5:44 am
agreed!!!! sometimes i remind myself that i was once like them so i need to chill. haha