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My eyes are worse,
I'm getting older,
doctor says.
Unhappy,
Less joy.
Look at my girls,
Always lit up.
They see magic.
Now I get it.
Kids find magic
Because
They look for it.
When did I,
Become a cynic?
Goddamn,
I need a drink.
About this poem
This poem reflects my realization that as I age, my perspective has become more negative and cynical. I express disappointment in my deteriorating vision and the effect it has on my happiness. However, I've observed my children, who always seem to find wonder and enchantment in the world around them.
Written on October 28, 2023
Submitted by JoeStrickland on October 28, 2023
Modified by JoeStrickland on October 28, 2023
- 18 sec read
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"Poetry.com" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 25 May 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/>.
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