Young poets bewail the passing of love; old poets, the passing of time. There is surprisingly little difference.
Young poets bewail the passing of love; old poets, the passing of time. There is surprisingly little difference.
Young men preen. Old men scheme.
The horse stares at its captor, barely remembering the free kicks of youth.
Retirement requires the invention of a new hedonism, not a return to the hedonism of youth
Middle age went by while I was mourning for my lost youth.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories