When I was young, I'd wonder why
bad times would come to make me cry.
What had I done? What was the cause?
Were these the fruits of divine laws?

Now that I'm old, each day's a gift:
the good, the bad, the subtle rift.
My life flows swift towards end of time
and I am glad that they are mine.

Unfulfilled literary aspirations?.
Join us at the Weekend Writer's Retreat to share your work.
Or just stop by to appreciate others'.



  1. Perspective makes a big difference. Very nice poem.

    Boy Meets Girl in 55

  2. Funny how different a change in perspective makes things. ~ Calico Contemplations

  3. I really enjoyed this, was uplifting..
    Regards, Regina-

  4. I'd still rather have more good days than bad, even as I get older and older.


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