ronbliss

Treasures of Youth
To Tom

When you're getting old, and life’s' getting cold,
There comes a time for truth,
When your pains and fears, drown out the cheers,
We reach for the days of our youth,

Many things that we've done, in the name of "just fun",
Had our youth, been spent in vain?
When we've put down the mask and the question's been asked,
Would we do it all over again?

The trouble we’d seek, and days maybe weeks,
We endured without money to spend,
Our problems were great and we just could not wait,
For the days of our youth to end.

For each day that was spent, in much discontent,
There were many more happy days,
I loved my youth; it's the whole damn truth,
That’s where my treasure lays,

The things that we did when we were just kids,
The places, the faces we met,
The laughter and jokin', the drinkin' and smokin',
We did it without one regret.

The girls we were datin' and some we left waitin',
We did what we had to do,
We doubled one night, and if memory be right,
You lied when you said you’d be true,

But the plump and petite, the homely and sweet,
They’re all a part of the past,
In the stage of our mind we cannot resign,
They’re a permanent part of the cast.

Like old cronies we met, and in memory yet,
We recall them by faces and names,
Though it's been many years, those departed old dears,
Through our mind's eye they look just the same,

So I ask you in truth, were the days of your youth,
Though at times more like boredom than pleasure,
Filled with naught but regret, that you’d rather forget,
Or are they considered a "treasure"?

Benny

I like this work! I spend many moments of each and every day reliving past youth...and I enjoy doing this very much. Many regrets, but I would not take back one single thing or experience. Love this!

ronbliss

Benny,
It was necessary to take one verse out before posting. The poem was written to my good friend Tom with whom I still keep in contact with, though 1700 miles away. It is the good things, the fun things, the unhappy and negative things we experience that mold us into who we are. I did some pretty bad things in my life and I suppose I have many regrets but I would not change one thing. Thanks Benny, for reading this poem and responding.
Ron