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Absconded youth

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  • Absconded youth

    I try to forget, yet still I recall

    memories of you that linger in my mind

    like some dirty verse on a bathroom wall

    or a fallen friend I can't leave behind.



    Easier for me to forget my name

    Or convince myself that I don't exist.

    Harder to tell myself I'm not insane

    Or for a boxer not to use his fists.



    You cannot come back, I cannot let go.

    What pitiful chance exists for me now?

    Nowhere left to hide, nothing left to show.

    Actor quits the play, taking one last bow.



    Now my voice trembles, I admit the truth

    I'm just an old man, yearning for my youth.

  • #2
    Lots of humanity here, Graydon.

    Comment


    • graydon archer
      graydon archer commented
      Editing a comment
      Thanks John. I seem to have been feeling perhaps, a little melancholy when I penned this...

    • John Wertz
      John Wertz commented
      Editing a comment
      Who said "the weather of the soul?"

  • #3
    Here's what's true Graydon, this is an awesome, reflective poem. What's also true is you never would have written this "in your youth" God's and Goddesses never age! Bobby Del Boy.

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    • graydon archer
      graydon archer commented
      Editing a comment
      My thanks to you Bobby! No, I don't suspect in my youth I'd have had the insight to write it.

  • #4
    Very moving, Graydon. Dirty verse and fallen friend, boxer's fists, quit play - this lament is bristling with compelling imagery. You know how to reach the heart.

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    • AlexandratheLate
      AlexandratheLate commented
      Editing a comment
      You stir my heart to feel as you do Graydon. I look at my parents and wish I could give them their youth back. :-)

    • graydon archer
      graydon archer commented
      Editing a comment
      Again my thanks to you grant. I must confess that although I reminisce from time to time about the days of my youth, I'm not at all begrudging of aging. There are many who were never afforded the opportunity to do so....

    • grant hayes
      grant hayes commented
      Editing a comment
      I know my comments often dwell on technical aspects of a piece, Graydon, but, quite simply, this poem brought tears to my eyes. And I'm no sentimental bloke.

  • #5
    Many thanks Alexandra. I know exactly what you mean. When my folks were alive, I'd have traded all my years to give them back their youth, but they wouldn't have accepted them. As Robert Browning so eloquently penned: Grow old along with me! The best is yet to be, the last of life, for which the first was made. Our times are in his hand who saith, 'A whole I planned, youth shows but half; Trust God: See all, nor be afraid!'”

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    • #6
      John Wertz Weather Of The Soul was a poem written by Bliss William Carman. ( I confess having had to Google it )

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      • #7
        A simply wonderful write Graydon. There are definite advantages that come with the gift of growing older as you said - chief among them still being around and able to lament our youth!

        Comment


        • graydon archer
          graydon archer commented
          Editing a comment
          Yes RLW, I often think of what George Bernard Shaw penned : Youth is wasted on the young

      • #8
        Hi, graydon, It's a tear-jerker, alright, but like they say, 'if you can't take the heat, get out of the kitchen.' It is wonderful to write about lost youth, but it kind of sucks to think about it! Powerful emotions, graydon, and another successful poem.

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        • graydon archer
          graydon archer commented
          Editing a comment
          I truly don't view my age in this fashion. As I stated, there are far to many who never received the opportunity to get past their 20s. I rejoice in the fact I've made it thus far....

      • #9
        I forgot the name of the poem when I was reading. I did not know where you were going.
        The last two lines got me. Then I went back and read the title. ..........

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