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I have to write, that much I must believe;

Too old to start again, too late to change

My ways, to put aside the things that grieve.

I have to write.

There was a time I hoped I could arrange

My life and plan the things I would achieve

But time runs out and stultifies the range

Of opportunities, while hopes deceive

The body's gradual decay, as age

Takes over and the mind cannot conceive.

I have to write.

Brian Hick autumn 2011

©copyright Sally Hick 7.10.23