This Middle Age

I am middle-aged,
And the rage that once consumed me,
Is a memory,
And I am at a loss.

Like the world beneath me opened void,
But I do not drop.
Destroyed possibility awakes,
Staring within me.

All I realise,
Is the ghost of my adolescence,
Fenced in by fate
And what these hands can this day create.

I am a success,
But I know I wouldn’t impress him,
The yesterday we,
Who dreamt a vast lasting legacy,

Who like children dreamed
Of fantastic lives lived and worlds won.
Whilst I with a shrug,
Dismiss what I bring into being.

With distant memories,
A wave of grief powered by regret,
I forget to be,
And I am lonely reminiscence.

Leave your thought.