Old Poem by Paul Reed

The scales have tipped
My decreasing steps
Bound now by my age;
My temper softened with wisdom
Dulled with knowledge,
Calmed from once insistent rage;

Now everything has a purpose
When once there was none
Gone, the aimless drifter;
The haphazard route through life
Straightened by evening
And days that seem so swifter;

No longer the fancies of idle past,
The wondering, the dreaming,
Truth is set in it's mould;
So fast time slipped the reins
Bolting to tomorrow
Now that I am old.