Colin F. Jones


~ 1 ~

Middle age brings regrets and doubts,
Fear of failing to achieve,
Past events reach out somehow,
Like wet tears on a sleeve.
For we were just the victims then,
Before we had control,
Before we boys became all men,
As we struggled to be whole.
Though possessed by fear and shame,
When we thought we could not stand,
Against the bastards of this world,
Uncouth and underhand.
We find that all we need is love,
And the strength to understand.

~ 2 ~

Look, how gentle we are now,
Now that our youth has gone.
For we no longer herd the cow,
Nor brag of battles won.
How wise we are! Or is it true,
That we just lack the will,
Or the energy to see it through,
To the estate of our kill.
Is it why old men send the young,
To fight wars they could not end,
Lest they just fade away unsung,
Now that they just pretend.
Perhaps; perhaps; perhaps it’s true,
That an old man needs a friend.