On His Thirtieth Year

And here is the remake of something that I wrote two years ago, this very day. Hopefully I did justice to poetry!

This day I welcome my thirtieth year,
How then should I pencil my life in brief?
Perhaps with sadness or unending grief,
Or perhaps with hopelessness and great fear!
My heart commands me to shed a little tear
And watch that which slowly wilts like a leaf
And embrace the age which takes like a thief;
I shall with most that be denied compare.
Let me now gauge my thoughts, my speech and speed,
And switch my brains in advance for manhood,
And once more stare my youth before I leap-
My careless days, my toil, my sweat and blood.
My mind is ripe, my soul bold. I proceed
With my stay. I mingle with time before I sleep.



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