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Created on: June 17, 2008 Last Updated: January 25, 2009
For thirty-nine years, my life was a story, flat and unclear.
There was no sun to my setting, no meaning to my theme, and no powerful turns of phrase to keep me excited about what lay before me.
Each chapter was littered with typos and mixed points of view, beginning with my upbringing, where my limitations were many, and my opportunities were few.
I was often mad at my position, wishing God would have spared me the burden of my birth, with poverty as its pre-existing condition.
I hated life, I hated me, but then a revelation came about when I turned forty.
I could live my life in this doomed manuscript, in this long story. Or I could stop behaving like a baby and be grateful for the blessings that have been given to me.
I was bound by my own chains, by my own lock. Then I realized that in my long story, I had always owned the pen, and I could easily change the plot.
I made controversial and tough decisions, but I stuck to my weapon choice, my convictions.
I developed an inner strength, that inner confidence, that told me it was never too late, to go the distance.
Now here I sit, at age forty. I'm healthy, NOT wealthy, but sure as hell wise. My regrets had their time, but they've since met their demise.
Yes, I'm over that hill that most of us dread. But I'm so happy to be here, because when I reached its peak, I could see another amazing hill waiting to be read.
So as I get ready to climb the rest of my life, I won't be afraid of impending strife. I'll simply enjoy the journey, as I bring along my growing wisdom, forgiveness, and beauty.
and I won't forget to take a pen, to ink some new chapters, and I'll make sure I save some room, for some amazing laughter.
If someone is out there, wallowing in regret, giving their mid-life crisis too much respect, count your blessings, deposit them in your heart. Then tell yourself the crisis is over, and claim your brand-new start.
Learn more about this author, Krymzen Hall.
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Poetry: Turning forty
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