Growing Old

I donít ask for complications
But they come to me in spite.
I never look for ghosts
Yet they haunt me in the night.
I never told the rain to stop
Or told the rain to come,
I either cling to more or less
But never just to some.
I think I wish I didnít care
If laughter came at all
I only wish that tears would leave
And problems would be small.
I marvel at some miracles
And remember them as good
I stand and watch catastrophes
And wish I understood.
I try to do whatís good and right
And turn my head at bad
I hate it when my plans donít work
And I start to feel so bad.
Mixed emotions Iíve learned to face
And make it through the day
I know Iím only growing old
And everythingís ok.




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