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Unnoted Soliloquy

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  • Unnoted Soliloquy

    Unnoted Soliloquy

    “In my brighter, gladder, lighter, easygoing days of youth,

    Happenings of sunny springs and autumn dosages of truth,
    Little thought that was not taught had I of any kindness shown
    To my parents or grandparents, whom I mostly left alone.

    As a minor, I had finer fascinations to amuse,
    Music playing, friends obeying none but their impassioned views,
    Fun and fancy, bold and chancy, which no one could turn us from,
    Least of all the elders’ call to come abide beneath their thumb.

    Up his time, the youth must climb before the top is out of reach.
    Family dinners weren’t for winners; distance those who dare to preach.
    It was thus ingrained in us to think ourselves the wiser lot,
    Too alive to not but thrive and too enlightened to be taught.

    My grandfather was a bother, sitting there in cushioned chair,
    Full of aches and past mistakes he’d share if I would only care.
    Every visit, I’d say, ‘Is it necessary I attend?’
    Only to be told, ‘Now you be sympathetic.’ I’d pretend.

    When at last he calmly passed, it barely meant a thing to me;
    I now regret my shallow debt, the loss of former memory.
    I know he fought and then was shot in World War II, so long ago,
    Just one lost tale so many fail to capture ere Death lays them low.

    As youth began, like every man, to slow its once-incessant race,
    I came to learn that passion’s burn cannot compare to love and grace.
    Enduring grief and false belief, thereafter I discerned in vain
    The lessons warned that I had scorned could easily have saved me pain.

    Dangers great I learned too late were held in places few would guess,
    Faults unheeded, then repeated, then forgotten nonetheless.
    Oh, to cast into the past a lesson I perhaps would heed,
    Go back in time, back in my prime, and so supply my unknown need.

    Now I sit and deal with it, regrets no one will let me share.
    All three sons have hit home runs, excuses taking them elsewhere.
    I know my tales and my travails are not the great ideals of sense,
    But how I yearn the young would learn from more than their experience.”

    His grandson, disturbed from fun, glanced up, for he was not alone.
    He hadn’t heard a single word, and so refocused on his phone.

  • #2
    Wisdom is something occasionally gained from experience gained by mistakes. One wonders if maybe the people who makes the same mistakes over and over aren't the lucky ones?

    Well done. Thanks.

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