by Alicia Renkema
2/07/2013 / Poetry
Oh, growing old would be so beautiful --
to sit down very relaxed like this.
Being able to simply watch life spin by,
not having to hurry along with it.
Just dreams of mine.
For living life to the fullest,
draining myself of exhausting happiness
Still, at the climax,
my burning tears
lo angry words
Today was the finish!
I had to drop, get away,
escape... from it all.
I'm wishing for a hand, an ear,
a person to be with.
Yet, I remain alone.
love, care and touch me.
I don't want to be old long.
But, my yesterdays would
make me older.
So, give me a new life.
Love me oh someone.
And if you dare, understand me;
nourish my weakened heart,
and hold my wrinkled hand.
Written by Alicia Renkema -- Now 56 yrs. old, I have been writing poetry since the age of 13. Some of my work has been published in church bulletins and writer's group devotionals. I also had a critique of a high school play published in a local newspaper. I love to study nutrition & to pray.
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