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This is actually kind of a light, easy ride of a piece, mainly a self-snark-directed discussion about one of those instances of suddenly knowing you're getting older. This one mainly came from a phrase that suddenly came to me that was a symbolic, blanket reference to the fact that as we get older, there is a point where we can look back on our earlier creative output, and suddenly realise how much of what we created in our teens tended to serve (and even be enslaved by) certain urges and desires that burn too fiery hot to be easily controlled until we attain the age and the wisdom (yeah, there's that word again), to do it.
Category Poetry / All
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 50 x 50px
File Size 852 B
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