If I Were Older

If I, perhaps, were older,
And more beautiful and bolder,
I would announce,
‘Fore you could pounce,
That I would be going away.

If I, perhaps, were older,
I’d turn the other shoulder,
While you would scream,
And plot and scheme,
Of ways to hold me back.

If I, perhaps, were older,
And wittier and colder,
I’d watch you squirm,
Like a snake or a worm,
As I, with my goals, slipped through your fingers.

If I, perhaps, were older,
Strong enough to move this boulder,
That is your wrath,
Which blocks my path,
I’d be higher than your satire.

But now that I am older,
I’m no more beautiful nor bolder,
Than when I turned my shoulder,
When I was wittier and colder,
And I still can’t move the boulder,
Which is your cynicism,
And your sarcasm.

-Elisabeth Spalding