Unprepared For It Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

There should come a time,
In all of our lives.
When decisions are made.
And our minds become clear,
Of which decisions to keep prioritized.
No one,
Including you, me and others...
Remain to stay at the peak,
Of a youthful energy released repeatedly.
With belief no one witnesses,
The decrease of it to eventually leave.

An aging discovered found upon us to come,
Isn't fun when some of us...
Are carried off a dance floor out of breath.
By those much younger,
Doing this with a show of respect.
And hoping someone who is much older,
Than the rest....
Come to their senses to accept,
Aging and time can not be redefined...
For Mother Nature to neglect.

'You okay, old man? '

~Who you calling 'old'?
I'm not old.
I'm just...~

'We know.'
Unprepared for it.
But grateful we are,
You are determined to show us...
Those historic moves of yours,
Kept to test our memories to never leave.'

~I'm not old.
I am just...~

'We know.
Unpreprared to let go,
Of a time that has gone.
But you know what? '

~What? ~

'The memory of your attempt,
To have us again re-live them...
Will always be remembered,
As an example...
That growing older is a gift.
And difficult it is to try,
To revitalize a part of it to re-visit.
Now...
Sit here and catch your breath.
Ignore the others laughing.
They have yet to know aging to regret.'