Old Poem

I am an old man reading a young man’s book.

It’s a pretty good novel about an old man.

Every paragraph sounds old and wise,

But it is not.

It’s the work of a young man

Trying to sound wise,

Which won’t work

Because real wisdom is not an act of will,

But a gift you get that can easily cost you your life.

The next morning you wake up

And realize you must have been a fool

To pay so high a price.