The Ages of Advice

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I early understood the righteous path
away from murk and chaos, tending toward
fierce honesty. I bellowed truth with wrath
and passion – then my wisdom got ignored.

In middle life I learned it wasn’t bad
to be so disregarded, didn’t halt
advising but no longer was so mad:
unheeded meant results were not my fault.

Of late my age sneaks up on me. Surprised
by failures in my stamina and skin,
I’m stunned to see the courses I’ve advised
apparently adopted by my kin.

The early truths still occupy my mind;
I guess my attitude has been refined.

This entry was posted in Aging, Philosophy, Poetry and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

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