I watched my children waste their time and energy on “fun”—
Those vain pursuits available in life beneath the sun,
Like reading, writing, running, friends…. I mutely bit my tongue,
Wondering why youth is always wasted on the young.
And now that they are almost grown (though still a little green),
Their lack of life experience is very clearly seen:
They work things out creatively, not waiting to be told…
While I lament maturity is wasted on the old.
But that’s okay, cuz one day I’ll enjoy what years have earned:
A chance to watch them squirming when the tables have been turned.
It’ll crush their immaturity and youth to glimpse their fate…
Watching me enjoy senility—that truly happy state.
—Anon “Eh?” Mouse