The world around me shrinks and stills
And this ancient husk of mine does creak
No more valiant stroke or daring feat
For all must be as cruel Time wills
I have no longer strength of arm
Nor speed to send me on my way
These crusted limbs will not obey
The call to keep me safe from harm
Yet here I sit, in quiet thought
while memories stir of youthful fears
Of contests won and battles fraught
Where fiery nerve beat countless tears
How wondrous then, how well we fought
Without a glance, to olden years.
About the Creator
Joe O’Connor
New Zealander
English teacher
Short stories and poems📚
Please be honest- I would love your constructive feedback, as it's the only way I'll get better. Would rather it was pointed out so I can improve!
Currently writing James The Wonderer
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Comments (8)
Joe, your poem captures the quiet dignity of aging beautifully. The contrast between past vigor and present stillness is poignant and very well expressed.
Definitely relatable, and beautifully written. Well done.
Excellent rhythm and use of language (I thought I was close to Shakespeare’s day). Very good Joe.
This is a masterful flow of poetry - straight to the heart of a universally relevant experience. I should be too young to relate...but my back is an old soul. Loved this very much, Joe!
Oh man, I feel this one. Too relatable!
This was so poignant and relatable. Loved your poem!
Poignant, Joe. I have been feeling my age lately so can relate wholeheartedly.
I felt this one deep in my weak and creaky body. I'm pretty sure we're both too young to feel so old. And yet, perhaps slightly too wise to still be young.