What Will I Do With All The Time Left? Poem by Shalom Freedman

It is difficult to live with my own failure
As a writer
Perhaps it is especially difficult now
For what hope can I have?
I am old
I have written so much
No one really cares for it

Can I expect I will now,
At the age of seventy-eight plus
Be able to write something different
From what I have written before?

A vague anxiety a kind of depression
Are my feeling now

What will I do with all the time left
If I can no longer fill the time with writing
Which has been the help and the hope of my life?

I suppose I know the answer
I will continue to write
Trying to believe that it somehow means something