Turning forty (oh so old)

Some may even say vintage

Like songs of my youth

Now playing on classic radio stations

Like playing outside all day

Occasionally into the night

Like going to school

With only the worries of failing a test

Like having peers from Mexico

Unafraid to go to school in America

Like presuming the world

Is a safe place to live

Being in one’s prime

No longer seems a malediction

But a culmination

Of wondrous experiences


Born consisting of pure love

Authentic to the core

As years advanced

Purity fading evermore

Saturated with sorrow

Yearning to die

No hope or joy

Pleading “why?”

Craving answers

A private war

Coveting a mental repose

Unexpectedly, an open door

Petition acknowledged

Hope illuminates the ashen sky

Recovery furnishes

The wings to fly