Is it ever too late to rock and roll…

Is it ever too late to rock and roll…

Am I open to persuasion?

Or will these feet

Stay forever

Buried in this congested mud.

Will it be too late

To change ways

That have seen so much

Slip by with

Little resistance.

Shackles were created

That bound me too well.

Wings were clipped

So long ago

As never to have flown,

And the experience

Of flight

The thrill of the fall

The joy of

Weightlessness

May now be, beyond

The strictures of

This flawed design.

Was fate determined

Even as opportunities

Were seen as beyond

The scope of my endurance,

Outside the reach

Of what I realise

Were parameters

Too narrowly defined.

I was both gaoler

And the cage

This self imposition

So ill-thought,

Holds me still.

And without help

It may never be escaped.

It is only your caress

Soothing in its regular

Insistence

That leads me to

End this impasse.

If I am to fly

And see the world

In all its glory

If I want to swoop and soar

Be the man

I might yet be

I still need you to remind me

To be true

To the kind of man I am.