Fourties

As I trudge into the Fourties
I remind myself of certain things;
Accomplishments aside,
I do tend to delve into failure,
and it is effortless, this delving.
I rummage through my life
Like a hobo through trash cans;
I look at my empty pockets
Not for loose change,
but the lint that returns each visit.
Thinking there might be purpose
As I stare into the grey matter;
Are shreds of my life lost here?

I can't stay positive
My glass is half empty and I am thirsty
Oh brother, am I thirsty!
I wish I felt different
I wish I could feel otherwise
A part of me can't
I am stuck self-loathing;
Pitying the life that is
Thinking what could've been.

It isn't an easy age to visit
I refuse to embrace it,
and I cast an evil eye at it
Thou makest a fools protest!
But I am a fool,
and I can't shake this uneasy feeling
That 40 is the beginning of the end;
Does everyone go through this?
A question to settle my mind
An answer that might matter little
Because in the end I am still me
and well, it isn't easy being me.