My Story
by dan ankers
Bittersweet, the pages of my journal, my time here on earth
The words contained, therein
are like the grin of an old man
Normal, is a word used to describe
the path so often taken
and where it leads
I cannot go,
for I am an old man
Too tired for the world I live in
Too desperate to stop trying, caring
Yet
my feet beneath me tremble
at the sight of life
I have no walking stick
I fashioned one
but
it dissolved
becoming like the illusory
dreams from which it was
fashioned
Bittersweet, is my time
for me
like the memory
of someone
once found and lost,
and found and lost again
