Dimly Lit Attics Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

The doing is easier to look over.
And eventually forgive...
Someone young.
Thoughtless and a blame exchanger.
First introduced,
To these silly mind games played.
Quick to detect.
And with sentiments visiting,
To reminisce to never forget...
Lessons taught in the midst,
Of jaws forced to be dropped.

However...
When one becomes 50! 60! and...
Nearly kissing 70,
Without needing an I.D. to prove.
Something much more serious,
Than cobwebs...
Have been allowed to go inspected,
In dimly lit attics.
Below those aging roofs.

And yet,
The same tactics used...
Are continued to believe,
The sight of them go innocently... Exposed.
Although too obvious to excuse,
Grown folks remaining children.
Trying to hide cookie crumbs stuck...
To both sides of their lieing mouths.