The Philosopher Dying Young Poem by RIC BASTASA
The Philosopher Dying Young
do not worry about going into
80
your way of imagining how we may sit at 70
somewhere in the park in the middle of that dark
part
like Simon's bookends and
Garfunkel's rock
is too hazy for me, for i have always said to myself
i can't grow old
someone saw my palm and the lines of my future
and which i, gladly accept,
I'd rather die younger, than suffer that loneliness
of my own uselessness.
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4/25/2024 12:55:08 PM # 1.0.0.1119
its a paradox, philosophy is a profession in which the older you get the acclaim increases, age is like a fine wine, if you saviour it at the right time it taste good. Even better when you are inebriated.