Most loyalty will turn out
to have been misplaced.

The edge is always
closer than you thought.

The drop is usually 
not as long as you’d feared

although you’ll still
be broken at the bottom. 

Aging reveals itself
as a series of once scoffed-at

anticipations coming slowly
to fruition; eventually

you accept that all you feared
will be coming true. Hope

is more or less fleeting,
though no less satisfying

for being fulfilled
only briefly. As for

peace and love and harmony:
save them for a song. Save the song

to be played by others
at your funeral. At least

joy will rise around you
and envelope those left behind.

If you want to do something
right in this life,

don’t let on that I’ve told you
this. Keep such lessons

to yourself and instead
write songs that suggest 

I’m wrong and it’s going
to be better for everyone else.