A Little Less Wiser

I’m getting older,

and a little less wiser.

Each day ticks by,

and I don’t cherish every moment.

My favorite season's chilly sigh-

is cast upon my cheeks as I look up-

at the cloudy sky, that warns us of a storm.

My thoughts are a storm that’s brewing.

The more time I waste standing here,

not truly living every second, worrying-

over small things that’ll be inconvenient soon,

the less time I have with those who I love dearly, like the moon.