Mark Walters (1953 / Georgia)
Old Timer's Syndrome
I remember gas for 20 cents;
But I don't recall my wages then.
I remember Sachmo's sweet, sweet horn;
But not racist and unyielding scorn.
I remember babes in centerfolds,
But not the shame of lives untold.
It's funny how my mind will wander,
And why some memories grow fonder.
Why did some people get so angry?
Didn't they enjoy life just like me?
I know what's not in this equation,
A sense of conscience, I’m undone!
Comments about this poem (Old Timer's Syndrome by Mark Walters )
Top 500 Poems
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
William Ernest Henley
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings