The Cider Years - Poem by Neil Solan
The cider years have come to an end,
We have to grow old, we have to pay the rent;
It's showtime now for the dreams that we made,
The dirty hands have gone but the memories remain.
What do you say to growing up?
We open our hearts and we come unstuck,
Friends have been lost but friends will be gained,
And lately things don't seem the same.
No more fighting in the park,
It's our time now to be afraid of the dark.
The age of consent has been and gone;
Our misunderstood youthfulness has gone on the run.
And now it's playtime, let my thoughts run wild,
Please Father Time let me see my child,
Chin up, chin up to face the world on my own
The treasury has been lost yet the map is still shown.
I don't say a word to her;
Looking up at me like a little bird.
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