When I was just 9, I wished <br />For the days to fall and turn and <br />Make me 10. Accomplished. <br /> <br />At 12, I longed to leave town <br />And move house again. Fresh <br />Start, new friends. Another down. <br /> <br />When 15 and troubled I pleaded for reversal <br />Of the previous two. This is not life, <br />Oh, sorrow. A mere rehearsal. <br /> <br />Now 18, I am pushing boundaries hard, <br />Wishing once again for the days to pass. <br />Seeking escapism in trying to be a bard. <br /> <br />At 81, I might wriggle from a single bed <br />With the cripple of Parkinsons or arthritis, <br />Or I might be lost at home, wishing <br /> <br />All those wishes had never been said.<br /><br />Seán O Muiríosa<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/wish-5/
