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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…

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He sits in the mahogany rocker.

His face to the sun

He cricks arthritic fingers

He rubs wrinkled skin

He remembers…

Turning sixteen

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.

He remembers…

His first true love.

Her laugh. Her skin. Her smile.

The Wedding.

Laughter. Cake. His late mother-in-law.

The First child.

His screams. Her blood. His tears.

He remembers…

The Fear.

The first grey hair.

His son’s deepening voice.

His wife drifting away.

The pain.

His slowing heartbeat.

His son leaving home.

His wife’s tears

The End…

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.

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