The Name of that Song


In teenaged years,

  they wait in great hope –

They’re waiting

  for something to happen.


They wait and they mope 

  for some lucky stroke,

they’re waiting

  on brand new



They fill up on hate,

  in worlds they create;

they cannot escape

  from inside them.


The Fall comes too soon

  for buds still in bloom,

the beautiful babes



And when a deed’s done,

  there will be no one,

no one to say,

  “It’s okay.

      You’re still young.”


In middle-aged years,

they brush back the tears –


  They’re switching their gears!


Switching the gears

  which remind them.


Some pain and some grief,


intermittent relief,

  on those roads

    that they chose

      to invent them.


It’s the ‘whys’ and the ‘whens,’

    the ‘wheres have I been,’

new changes in wind,

    new direction.


And all of the plans,

  that were made out of hand,

get washed out like sand

  all broken.


It’s when life unfolds,

    from teens unto old,

it’s then Time will show

    what has happened.


And all through each life,

  through thick and thin strife,

there was always the hope


    There will always be hope!


For hope   is relief

    still in sight.


It is what it is,

  as it was all along.

It’s all right,

  some are wrong;


it’s the name of that song.


It won’t say,

  “You belong.”


        But it might!





©2013, Marvin Loyd Welborn

Revised 01 May 2014.


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