Alone And Unloved
The scourge of age is our greatest fear;
at least, it’s what the young have said;
so most cringe, as old age draws near;
but what we fear, is loneliness, instead.
Age, by itself, can’t diminish our being;
so long as we’re still loved by others;
but, when we’re alone; and rarely seen;
we only feel love of sisters or brothers.
Love of family only goes just so far;
for it lacks the energies of passion;
without one to love; life seems bizarre;
almost as though, life is out of fashion.
I still feel the love of those all around;
but it isn’t the love we had dreamed;
a passionate kiss can no longer be found;
and love was no more what it’d seemed.
When people see ones advanced in age;
compassion is the only love they feel;
though they respect; they seldom engage;
and to the aged; life seems surreal.
I have reached that tipping point of age;
and, now live in the country; alone;
death is nearby, to turn life’s last page;
while, I still live in a loveless home.
Although I still plan to write; till I die;
my passions; like radar; look around;
spare me your sadness; and solumn goodbye;
I’ll long for a kiss; till I’m in the ground.
Monty 3/10/24. # 2,043