Saturday Sonnet - 9/24/22 - The word I fear the most...

 

The word I fear the most, melancholy,

Reminds me of a place I used to live,

Of a young man’s regret, foolish folly,

A final parting, nothing left to give.

Now I am old, and pain is just a word,

Like heartache or sorrow; my old bones creak,

My fingers stiffen, my thoughts run, absurd

Dreams of past pleasures I no longer seek.

What is it I would want if wanting more

Were granted me? To want more, to desire

A different life… a man is a bore

Who squats in streets to set himself on fire,

Imagining himself a movie star.

He might as well have played a Russian Tsar.