Wrong Ideas (Poetry)

What did I know when I was young —
the bell of wisdom yet unrung
my heart unbroken, dreams intact
embracing fiction, blind to fact
so full of hope — that river flowed
and all those seeds of grief unsowed?

I lived in Wonderland those years
more smiles than sighs, few were the tears
and healthy, too — no stick or crutch
no pain that hindered me too much
quite sure there was some prize ahead
believed that promise someone said

Life cured me of such foolishness
as truth unpicked false happiness
naivity was stripped away
dim shadows haunted each new day
I limped along as others do
and found a way of getting through

Now disillusioned, old, half-glad
I’m free of wrong ideas I had
this world is cold, unfair, unkind
and sorrow clings — won’t leave the mind
senility might ease the pain —
feign innocence — feel joy again