Growing Old
I have so many memories that I cannot fit them ,
Donna Layne Roberts
March 1, 1996
Copyright 1996
On the carasol of life, my life was never standing still:
I'll never know what's God's will,
Life's tiny pleasure rarely slowed me down,
For I was spinning recklessly,
On a spinning wheel that never stopped,
The wheel of endless tragedies,
Endless circles of anguished dreams,
Oh yes, and multicolored spun memories,
That are never what they seem,
Like a spinning tornado,
Whirling past in a blue,
Wrecking havoc on emotions,
That I never knew I had.
So many multicolored memories,
Spinning out of control,
Don't know if I could stop them all,
To keep just the ones that are gold,
For life is made of multicolored memories,
That's the treasure of growing old.
