With age the chains of unworthiness and need
Morph into such threads of regret and clearer vision.
Those wants and needs of youth have simply melted
As the age of grasping the possible knew division.
As the years were counted along with the lover's names
A diary was created, --- too thick to read
So the dreams that I once thought would be my final
Were tear-dropped dreams that watered future seed.
Now I look at a simpler, more thoughtful, final chapter
And I chuckle at some dreams that I once knew.
This broth that I have mixed and simmered slowly
Could not have been a better mix of stew.
05-11-2016
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