I Suppose Poem by David McLansky

I suppose this resignation
Is a form of wisdom;
Beaten down,
We discard our pride,
Adopt a lesser vision.

We pass as strangers
On the stairs,
Both bitter in defeat;
She now absorbed
In her career;
I wobbly on my feet.

Gone those joys
Dear to my heart:
The joining love
Of two apart;
The laughter,
Caring, life-devotion,
The sharing, partnered
Warm emotion;

Gone forever
As I climb the stairs,
A lesser man
In my white hairs.