I'm on the bridge already
above the rush of water
that is the past.

Approaching the half century
of my life,
no smarter than I was
when birthed,
screaming and wet
from the womb.

Now in room
of hopeless despair.
At times panicked
beyond control,
a tortured soul.
I want simple peace.
Lack of disease,
brain cells
alive and well,
to get up
perchance I fell.
Not stealth,
but health
at least above
just on the brink
of death.

Not much to ask
as twilight years
I slip aged to.
A life of calm
lacking ado.

Just a journey
across this bridge of time
understanding
that I'm past my prime
no rockers please,
no embroidered shawl
just peace, at last
I ask, that's all.

WhiteRose