Forty years ago, I turned thirteen years of age
of course, no one says "of age" anymore but "old"
really, I feel old today, forty years later
truly relative, at ninety-three, will this rage
yet to imagine, hormones disappear with age
yes, that word, again but not the same phrase, to fold
exit this cold world, where no one is kind, greater
acts of decency occur but justice is blind
recently, I woke to find myself in a cage
stranger things happen, I am not concerned, for here
am I no longer there, always pushing forward
greater things occur, though I must not live in fear
or disappointment, and I must not seek reward
I must remain sage, for wisdom reflects the mind
Teenage dreams smeared red in a punk band in high school
under all the stress, I could never understand
rebellion made sense, a way to cope with sorrow
not until later, when the infinity pool
emerged in my mind, I woke up to reflection
down the rabbit hole, after we broke up the band
thirteen to nineteen, my life had become hollow
how the lyrics spoke to how I felt as a child
inside, hollow hills, hollow inside, trisection
resolve the challenge, a geometric angle
try to fail better, butcher the master playwright
even then I wrote, poetry helped untangle
everyday events, trapped in my head, lid on tight
no one knew why I went from wild to quite mild
years become decades, the wheel of karma joy ride
eventually drugs made me seek out where the truth
actually hid, I found Buddha and meetings
really, my mind hid from everyone, when I hide
speech stops in my brain, actively, I was silent
of course, I wanted to talk but I was a sleuth
figure out puzzle, slow, methodical, greetings
as I learned to think, logic cleared the violent
generated thoughts, I accepted I was strange
even though I try, un ange won't rhyme with orange
