ages

Some men retreat at the coming of age;

Some embrace the part, for all the world’s a stage.

Younger men quail at the thought of surrender,

Fixed on a dream and the words, “now or never.”

But we happy few know the middle way’s best,

To thine own self be true, then give it a rest;

Hang up the costumes, search for a job,

Bid farewell to adventure, and swallow a sob.

Look to the west, and feel your heart harden,

Then tighten your belt and tend to your garden.

Great expectations are fine in the youth,

But bleak are the houses of Beauty and Truth.

So set aside sunshine and sweet puppy love,

Take wing as a raven instead of a dove.

And take heart in the fact that still, not all is lost.

For always some good thing comes along with a cost.

The days may grow cold, the nights may grow darker,

But at least you’re in love with Dorothy Parker.