Foolish when young, and later yet, God knows!
I now, grown old, lament departed loves,
adorèd friends, acquaintances—and even
a few foes. Still, there’s an unadmitted advantage in such sorrow: witnesses of my immature boo-boos and no-no’s
have stepped offstage, one by one, without fuss.
I’m sad they’ve passed away, of course, but that’s a plus!
What goes around comes around’s nothing new. The task of many is to mourn the few. May Generations Y, Z, and Alpha too,
come to this point in life, look back on me, weep a bit if they feel like it and say,
“Thank @#$%, he’s not here to remember that today!”
