Youthful vitality ! I wouldst thou were to me
The breathing spirit of the heart and veins
Thou art to some. Instead, the heavy chains
Of thought from which I’ll ne’er be free
Crush like a weed my soul which cries for liberty.
These hours which should be filled with song and pleasure
Are robbed of innocence, of quiet leisure –
While in their stead I watch in misery
Day follow day, tears follow tears and never
Anyone to understand. It’s hard
To smile when the heart is crying.
But oh, if ever I find one to understand and
love me for a while,
The years and all my guilt shall fade away –
I shall be young again and free and gay.
November ’61 (c) IconoclasticNan