Class Of 1963 Poem by Alfred Ramos

Class of 1963
In the waning years
That’s waning not whining
After many trials and tears
Aches and pains rush towards me like a tidal wave
So who am I to save
Why naturally, obviously
Little old me
I look into the mirror for signs of my youth
But my reflection only shows the truth
Still alert but a bit wizen
Loneliness sits on the horizon
Waiting like a crouching tiger to devour me
Pull me up by the roots and deflower me
Yes my defenses now have some weakness
But my life experience will show off its uniqueness
And I’ll fight through it another day
For many of us it’s the only way
In the waning years
Okay the whining years
While I’m a little more wrinkled
A little more grey sprinkled
And maybe a one too many beers
I sit here with you tonight and reminisce
Grateful that it has come to this
Telling each other little white lies of what was
Or might have been
Pulling out pictures of our many grandchildren
And yes the old cars that we rebuilt
To show us that our spirit will not wilt
But in the end I’d rather be here with you
To share our dreams that may or may not have come true
In the whining years
So few are left
Left them be not victims of theft
We must not give in to our fears
So live, love and laugh
Take many a photograph
And take home a joyful memory
Of a wonderful night with the class of 63