The Age of Anger
A Creative Poem
A Creative Poem
Nursed by brooding thought,
are years when you dared to dream.
The rosy twilight of boyhood,
the royal arrogance of youth.
The pith and sinew of mature manhood
is merely a book to beguile the tedious hours,
a fiery exclamation of wrath and disdain,
a harvest of barren regrets.
As days pass in a stately procession,
evening comes with slow steps,
unearthly in its malignant glee,
until sleep overtakes us at a stride
and the profane voices are hushed.