I see in this poem so many of the fears I have as a man. I think I had better resign myself to them and face them like a man. No? Oh well. This is written by Dare @theDharkone our latest poet on this blog…Enjoy…
He sits in the mahogany rocker.
His face to the sun
He cricks arthritic fingers
He rubs wrinkled skin
Drugs. Girls. Music.
The milestone eighteenth
Sex. Blood. More drugs. fights.
The twenty-first birthday
Tripping on acid. Bashing his father’s car. Escaping death.
His first true love.
Her laugh. Her skin. Her smile.
Laughter. Cake. His late mother-in-law.
The First child.
His screams. Her blood. His tears.
The first grey hair.
His son’s deepening voice.
His wife drifting away.
His slowing heartbeat.
His son leaving home.
His wife’s tears
Sitting in his rocking chair.
His first grandchild.
His wife’s death.
He sinks into the inky darkness
“Wake up!” he hears. His eyes open.
The old man stands over him.
He rises from his grandfather’s mahogany rocker,
Leaving the fear of life behind
Tomorrow he turns twenty
Life has just begun.