Will it always be like this,
hurried, no time to talk?
Just, mountains of chores,
dishes to wash, cats to feed.
People, to care for ;
Gardens, to be tended
and relaxed in.
Can the world stop turning, just for a second, so
I can catch my breath?
Gather, my thoughts and regain
my equilibrium, or do I
have to revolve, faster than the speed of light,
just to catch up on myself,
If I pinch myself, will I wake up,
or will I drift on endlessly,
wallowing in self pity;
Dust myself off and paint on
my funny mask, ready to face the world
tomorrow, or perhaps, a sombre
mask would be more fitting for my age;
In a world, where age does matter.
As, when we are twenty, all things are pre- told,
rules, to abide by, thirty and the children
are nearly raised. Never a moment, running
constantly, here there.
forty, celebrates a new life and a new
independence, back to work.
Fifty, the all knowing smiles of a true
being, emerging from the cocoon,
of motherhood ,leaving for a quieter time;
The quirks, of knowing that all one says, is " Allowed"
as age, being the president.
Beyond, is supposed to be a time to reflect,
on one's life, but who knows where one gets the
time.................
not in this life time
Adding your comment:
Thanks for sharing poetess~ 
that did make me smile and yes, I was going through a really self pitying time and this just popped up..I can look back on it now and it makes me chuckle as I would really never change a moment of the past, as its the past that makes you what you are 
