Weren't Those the Teenaged Years?
by Michael Doyle

The teenaged years
Of Saturday night solitude
Was a parade of smiles and tears
And many dramas
Waiting to intrude
Into the happiness that came
And that provided the frame
In moments of Shakespeare
That kept us awake
Making us braver than our fear
As our souls trembled
Into the edge of more
Than we thought we could take

Wars of love
Fought based on broken hearts
Unsure of what we were thinking of
Life offers us too many false starts
The garden variety
Of all of our shared issues
All of this seemed a complexity
Shedding our tears into tissues
So much unseen that is seen
As we grew into human beings
Fighting and blessing each step
Along the way

Not to be overly contemplative
But there were too many negatives
Though we tried to be positive
We looked at the world - inquisitive
Questioning even the questions
With the slightest hesitations
Hiding secrets that we found
In the walks taken around
We all have little secrets that we hide
The trick is knowing in whom to confide

As we get to the place of being older
And find ourselves growing less bolder
We went off to the important things
No longer just enjoying the moments life brings
Wanting to edit all things said
Still wobbling around inside our heads
Life finds itself passing by
Heartbreaks signaled away in a sigh
We become more aware of all we're losing
Wide awake to how little is our choosing
And we think back on our younger days
Smiling in wonder as if in a million ways

 All those teenaged years were good...
               ...weren't they?

(c) June 2, 2022  Michael Doyle
All Rights Reserved