Getting Old Ain’t For Sissies


I’ve been admitted to the hospital 3 times in the last months, 6 times in the last 5 years.  Mayoga jenkes one ponder mortality, it does.  Which isn’t such a bad thing unless you are 21.  Indeed, it makes you focus on what’s importa298838_10150286523651740_505871739_7635901_6636550_nnt to you.    Like these girls, (whom you can see are not of unconsiderable talents) the beauty of music, and the potential power of words.



Jenna Chrysanthi Peterson, Sarah Rose Peterson

So here I am
Alone at last
Swaying to the angels singing
Sweetly, Days of Future Past

I can’t forgive
Nor reconcile
The things I’ve seen, the men I’ve been,
As we tripped down the moonlight mile.

And if I never see your face again
The memories won’t fade
There’s a brilliant kind of clarity
In in the history that we made.

I’ll toss my soul
Upon the pyre
And trust to our redemption
In the silvery cleansing fire

That blazes through
All time and chance
And fires the sacred crucible
Of hard core circumstance

Though you never were the martyr
And I never was the saint
Nor criminal intent
Damned if we are, damned if we ain’t

Just give me ten more years to fix the things I’ve broken
And leave my voice to take back every word ill spoken.

C G Em Am Dm G(x4)
Em Am Em F G
C G Em Am Dm (x4)
Em Am Em F Gsip
C F G7 (x2)

John (Drakakis) Peterson

This getting old
isn’t for sissies


About Drakakis

Street Poet scribbling to your tired, your poor, your huddled masses; the wretched refuse of your teeming shore, the homeless, tempest-tost ...
Aside | This entry was posted in Daily Life, Death, Family, Literature, Music. Bookmark the permalink.

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