What age when lyrics of songs ceased urging me to try and change the world?
What year was it when I stopped arguing for our future, when I started shaking my head, instead of shaking my fist?
When did emotion become exhausting and passion become passé?
Is there still time to reread those poems and let the few tears remaining soften something lost?
To replay that music and perhaps join Barry MCGuire in exposing the Eve of Destruction?
I remember that person with a future yet to be decided, endless possibilities.
When did I shed that future joy, replacing it with the heaviness of the past.
Perhaps when we age, become tired, when our voices become weak, it is our time once again to follow in the footsteps of those beloved poets, of those beloved songwriters, to feel those emotions. To take up our pens and write poems and anthems for the next generation.