I’m tired of life
I want my young days back
Winging, singing, through steel canyons
Wailing guitars and purple lightning
Waves breaking on my immortal soul
Striking in righteous anger
A festival of teetering freedom
Earthquake of eternity
In every golden step a future
As the sun is going down into the abyss
This train is bound for glory
Ha. Me too, Robbie. I want my young days back as well. But by most accounts I was as silly as a wheel back then - and I doubt I would survive today's youth :)
ReplyDeleteYes, it's a bit self-indulgent — I must have been in a bad mood last night. :)(Actually, one problem with the poem-a-day routine is that it encourages you to 'rush into print'!
ReplyDeleteit's all good... lovely to see how you saw yourself, then!
ReplyDeleteyes it captures that delusionary aspect of youth
ReplyDelete