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
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