A Geriatric Manifesto-by Richard Weigand

A Geriatric Manifesto

The mirror whispers of years gone by,
Of creased foreheads, and clouds in the eye.
The hands that once built dreams with speed,
Now tremble, but still hold the seed.
The seed of freedom, a stubborn flame,
Burning bright, despite the name—
“Elderly,” they call me now,
Yet I press on, furrowed brow.

The spine may ache, the memory stray,
The joints may groan, at the start of the day.
But dreams don’t age, and neither does will—
The heart’s a rebel, defying the still.
I’ve sat in this chair, back stiff, eyes sore,
Pouring through knowledge, craving more.
The world’s a puzzle, the pieces vast,
And though I tire, I’ll make them last.

The new age laughs with its shiny walls,
Its barriers rise, its system calls:
“Too slow, too old, this is not your fight—
Give up your dreams, give in to the night.”
But I answer back with a raspy roar,
“I’ve walked through storms, I’ve seen the war.
You think a wall can turn me around?
Watch me climb; watch me rebound.”

Yes, it’s hard—oh, don’t I know,
The body weakens, the progress slow.
The words on the page blur and fight,
The hours drag into the night.
But failing’s not what scares me most,
Nor the thought of my final ghost.
It’s quitting, surrendering, laying down—
To wear the weight of a coward’s crown.

So don’t count me out; I’m not done yet,
I’ve miles to go, and dreams to be met.
The end will come, that much is true,
But until it does, I’ve work to do.
I’ll stand with the aged, the broken, the scarred,
With hearts like mine—unyielding, hard.
For freedom’s a song I’ve yet to sing,
And the echo of hope is a mighty thing.

So let the young laugh, and let the world spin,
I’ll fight to the last breath within.
And when I fall, don’t mourn or cry—
I lived, I fought, I reached for the sky.
For the only way to fail, my friend,
Is to quit before the very end.
And that’s not me—not my story, not now,
I’ll face the future, wrinkled brow.

This is my anthem, my creed, my vow:
“I ain’t quittin’—not ever, not now!”

Richard Weigand

1 December, 2024