Poem: You Were a World


You were a world.
You had issues, like a world should.
Enormous, screaming, intense issues, every day.
Your issues filled the news outlets and my mind.

I lived with you and your issues.
I lived with you ever since college.
Issues, issues, issues, issues, issues.
Even when an issue was resolved,
There was a question of whether it should have been
Could have been sooner, would have been later
Resolved better faster more efficiently.
There were issues about the issues, and I was there.

There were people to address the issues.
Sincere, educated, intelligent, articulate, personable.
People!  Issues!
I was there too.
I wondered how I could become like them.

Then, one day, I arrived at old age.
I had magic initiation into oldage-speak.
Now I could say those things that oldsters had said,
Things that made no sense.
“Easy does it.”
“Just be thankful for what you’ve got.”
“There are two sides to everything.”

With oldsterism, I found that issues died.
The people who loved them did not love me.
I was not relevant. A nothing.
But the death was mutual.
We went down together, the issuemongers and I.
The gasbag deflated; the hype subsided.
They were, after all, just issues.

I lived with you, a world of issues.
You were all I knew, almost forever.
Then I blinked, became an oldster, and it was all gone.
It was just a bunch of headlines,
Words introducing hyperventilation of no import.
You were a world, and I breathed your perfume,
And then I moved on.


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