Waning Years

In these waning years the worst of my fears;
Those things for which there seems no amends.
It matters not the multitude of my tears,
I observe the incessant passing of my friends.

I feel sorry for my self for each dreadful surprise.
How could this happen to one I long to see?
Then I'm thankful another spirit more wise
Grants understanding that this is not about me.

Rather than sulk in a sea of sorrow
I'll remember those precious times forever.
Now with friends enjoy today and tomorrow
Though the years may wane I'll be to clever.

poem by Gregory Huyette
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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