Being Here. Poem by Terry Collett
Being Here.
I am here,
yet I'm not,
seemingly
unaware of being
as being
should be
(or so I'm told) .
No longer young,
no more
spreading out
beside some
young thing,
waiting to see
what she'll bring.
I'm getting old,
(so I'm told) ,
feeling
the aches more,
the pains
like companions,
sneak up close,
snuggle
into the bone.
I am here,
yet,
at the end
of it all,
I am alone.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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5/5/2024 3:20:30 PM # 1.0.0.1119
