Getting Old Poem by Paul Reed

I could take it all

And throw it all away

Take that worried frown

Wear it another day;



I could bathe those tired eyes

In seas of softened dreams

Let them look into another world

Where all is not what it seems;



I could pretend that all that has happened

Never happened to me

That things never really existed

That my soul was free;



I could hide away in a corner

Sit in a darkened room

Let my hopes just ebb away

Into the deepened gloom;



Ask why did the path lead here?

Did I choose that course?

Trace the river of life

Back to it''s secret source;



Or I could stay the same

Let tomorrow unfold

Cling on to what I have

And carry on getting old.