Rog's Rhymes~~~Plato's Lament
Plato's Lament
The old man sits and rocks,
Stares through his window in great dismay,
Worries and wonders the changes that have come,
Since those times he calls, "my day"
The clothes of this youth so ridiculous,
Respect for their elders is none
He says aloud that he's lived much too long
And he is glad his time nearly done
~
Their music is but awful noise he claims,
Without good rhythm or beat
And the very sound of this clamor
Would keep anyone off of their feet
One wonders if would be any comfort
For this old man to know
That these exact thoughts were lamented by Plato,
Many thousands of years ago
~
Some things never and will never change. Does age ever find pleasure in youth?
© Roger Eugene Corell,
October 18, 2007
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