I Never Thought I Would Grow Old

by Elizabeth Slaughter-Ek

Surrounding myself with the fires of learning
I buried my head in the books.
When I speak or espouse what I know to be true
All I get are contemptuous looks.

Beauty is in the eye of the seeker
But age, in the eyes of the young
What is relevant now, though then I knew not
Is the length of song I have sung.

The lyrics and melody fall by the side
The rhythm is scattered and flown
If I don't have the time to finish my song
Then the truth and the beauty are blown.