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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2194876
by Neil
Rated: E · Poetry · Philosophy · #2194876
Facing our own mortality and hindsight on what we achieved.
With age comes some measure of success
And along with it a bitter irony of sorts
Finding that the failures of life are more important
Learning more from the tumbles and the falls

Becoming less aware of the reasons
Swept under the carpet....
As daylight appears under the door
A brighter day will surely come
Hope rides the rays of sunshine through our lives forever more

As sunset draws the blinds on life
The dreams we had all turn to dust
In the end nothing really matters anyway
A generation's passing and all trace of us is lost

I have seen what's at the end of the rainbow
There is no pot of gold to be found
Just a lifetime of memories and regrets
Coming in and going out alone

If only I were an artist
Imagining the colours of life strong and bold
Painting pictures of fields abundant
Youth and all it's joyous tales to be told

Then as age overcomes our presence
Where are the one's that we brought to the fore
Listening for their pitter patter footsteps
Down the corridors of time then all to soon are gone

A life that is worthy of more
Lessons to learn and respect to teach
So busy chasing dreams so elusive
Dreams we are sold that seem to be always just out of reach

Success is the measure of a man
And as he bows for his final curtain
Failure stands alone and staring into the distance
Of a dark and melancholy dawn
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2194876