When I am old, I will not be
told
what to do,
nor will I do as I am told.
I will find pleasure in
contumacy,
thereby enhancing my golden
years
with a stubborn disregard
for authority.
It will give me motivation
to live
far beyond my life
expectancy
and make the encumbrance of
old age
worth the trouble.
Oh, I shall be no threat
to the security of the state
or of civilization for that
matter,
but I can count on me
not to be polite, prudent or
politic
in response to
the boorish, the bumptious,
pretentious or prejudiced.
Nor will I suffer gladly any
politician
or any pious person
of any stripe,
knowing that the former is
above all, a politician,
and the latter is afflicted
with
the conceit of claiming
knowledge
of the unknowable.
Instead, I shall seek to
embrace
comrades in contumacy,
the brazenly optimistic,
the irrationally idealistic
and the hopelessly cheerful.
Considering my present age,
perhaps I should begin now,
so I won’t have to be told
when I am old.
2 comments:
Saved your rhyme till the very end -- Bravo, Grady, for having shown contumacy toward your own proclivitacious soundacity !
Facing my own mortality, I wish I had written this poem#
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