Coming of Age
I turned fifty at twenty one
By adding thirty years
Subtracting all my carefree ways
And multiplying fears
Not one to excel at maths
As you can plainly see
My workings out, they made no sense
Especially to me
I carried the remainder
With ease of heart and mind
And wore it as an overcoat
Not loose, the tailored kind
Buttoned up and belted
Old fashioned in my style
It covered up my youthful form
The added years belied
One and twenty candles
Adorned my birthday cake
Sticks of wax in candy pink
Topped with cotton wick
They didn't burn from both ends
Like the candles of my youth
Naked flames weren't dancing
Now much longer in the tooth
I was always on the outside
At odds amongst my peers
My age, rank and position
A traitor to the years
Cosmo, She and Vogue
Suave impostors by my Aga
Was home to Homes & Gardens
And back issues of Saga
When finally I came of age
On reaching big five O
The age that I'd been born to be
It felt like coming home
At long last I can act my age
Feel like I belong
Without the taunts and questions
Making me feel wrong
We are the sum of all our parts
'Tho I won't equal yours
The symbols may be different
My twos might make your fours
I have added noughts to mine
Where none were meant to be
But by God it feels good to be
The age I'm meant to be
Mel 27/10/10
This poem stayed in my head for days. I thought about it and how right you are. And how nice it is to think that there are those of us who will become the age we are meant to be.
ReplyDeleteThanks for getting what I meant. I don't think many people understand the concept of feeling you were meant to be a particular age. Glad it struck a chord with you xx
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