Simple joys
poem about life
We were once children.
Worry-free and guided by worried parents.
Our parents, full of care and compassion.
Abundant in love, pouring it all on us.
We were always one of these.
Fastest or slowest in a race.
The strongest or weakest on the playground.
In the middle ground or those of middling stature.
Wherever we landed.
All of us were once carefree and innocent.
Mouldable like clay.
Naïve in beliefs and thinking.
Finding simple joys as easy as
counting from one to ten.
Now, the tug of war between the tween and teen years.
Tweens are way too weak to win.
Teens, too strong.
Teens, now the big kids on the block.
A time full of impulsivity and exclusivity.
Also filled with first loves and kisses.
Heartbreaks and broken hearts.
Self-conscious thoughts and self-doubt plague this time.
Where do I fit in?
Where do I not?
Learning how to back up and go forward.
Simple joys are easy to find, as easy as driving a car.
Time has passed.
The time of youth is over.
Many leave home for university or work at a 9 to 5.
A time full of questions and doubts about the future.
Prospects of jobs and relationships are uncertain.
Troubles upcoming are certain.
Full of ups and downs.
Finished degree with no job offering.
Getting a pay cheque that is lacking.
Can’t forget the taxes taking all planned spending away.
All of this, taxing to the body and mind.
Simple joys are very easy to find.
Easy as paying a mortgage and living hand to mouth from month to month.
The years of the middle-aged crisis have come upon us.
What now?
Far from being young, closer to being old.
Many do anything to be young again.
Healthy eating, over-exercising, and injecting Botox, just to name a few.
An era spent on avoiding wrinkles and fine lines.
Well, at least the house is paid for, and the empty nest belongs to you.
Now, you can rest and retire.
Beach vacations and planes to faraway nations await you.
Anything to distract from the next stage of life.
Simple joys are easy to find, as easy as filing for divorce and planning for a retirement party.
All those times have passed.
You are now aged and wise.
Sitting at park benches watching people pass by.
Passing the time by people-watching, watching what you have already experienced.
Those being watched don’t have a single care about what you have experienced.
Now you’re old, the final stage has come.
No hope for an encore.
Simple joys are easy to find.
Simple and easy.
As easy as counting on ten fingers how many years you have left.
