Instead

by Max Layton

I thought I’d sing a song of love
Instead I wrote of pain
I thought I’d praise my younger days
Instead I watched them wane

I thought, instead of discontent
I’d sing of harmony
I never meant a long lament
Of such solemnity

I’m sorry if these winter lines
Engrave your summer eyes
Old age will change you too in time
And won’t apologize

If death’s the end of life’s design
I walk downhill each step I climb