Marc Latham’s latest Folding Mirror poem started off autobiographical but then he thought it worked better as a fictional piece.
And without further ado, here it is:
Middle-Age Memories
back in the day never fancied old age
it looked boring as beige
didn’t think future
couldn’t see juncture
no need to worry
plan responsibility
don’t have to behave
in an early grave
enter middle-age, rage caged
what now for I’m
fifty years and alive
remember rebel
how used to tell
self no compromise
maybe youth’d empathise
if he’d known my life
after the night he picked up the knife
mistYmuse 
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