Ten years old,
I’ve learned how to tie my shoes.
Twenty years old,
I’ve learned how I like my booze.
Thirty years old,
I’ve learned to get up and go to work.
Forty years old,
I’ve learned to appreciate my quirks.
Fifty years old,
I’ve learned my kids are now adults,
Sixty years old,
I’ve learned to ignore the world’s insults.
Seventy years old,
I’ve learned how much a person I can miss.
Eighty years old,
I’ve learned how precious time here is.
Do you want to live forever?
If it was a choice that all could make?
Would you soon grow bored with life?
Or would you choose to Death forsake?
Me? I’d choose life among the living.
For I believe there’s something more.
Another dream, another trip to take,
Another song to sing on the dance floor.
A/N: I will most likely read this poem again in a couple of weeks and cringe. If you guys cringe as well, I suppose it’s as good as reaction as any 😉
And furthermore; Happy Birthday, Mom!
The world is still new and I stare with eyes from The Tinderbox.
Marvelling over snow crushing beneath me, sun warming above me.
And that little sound the microwave makes, when the minutes are out.
And over the dog; greeting me with a cold, wet snout and a wetter tongue.
Continue reading One; Mother