Present Tense
It was Spring,
But it was Summer I wanted,
The warm days,
And the great outdoors.
It was Summer,
But it was Fall I wanted,
The colorful leaves,
And the cool, dry air.
It was Fall,
But it was Winter I wanted,
The beautiful snow,
And the joy of the holiday season.
It was Winter,
But it was Spring I wanted,
The warmth,
And the blossoming of nature.
I was a child,
But it was adulthood I wanted,
The freedom,
And respect.
I was twenty,
But it was thirty I wanted,
To be mature,
And sophisticated.
I was middle-aged,
But it was twenty I wanted,
The youth,
And the free spirit.
I was retired,
But it was middle-age I wanted,
The presence of mind,
Without limitations.
My life was over.
But I never got what I wanted.
By Jason Lehman
Jason Lehman was 14 years of age when he wrote the above poem. It was sent to Abigail Van Buren, who after verifying that the poem’s author was indeed ‘a teenager wise beyond his years,’ published it in her newspaper column “Dear Abby” (14 February 1989).
It was Spring,
But it was Summer I wanted,
The warm days,
And the great outdoors.
It was Summer,
But it was Fall I wanted,
The colorful leaves,
And the cool, dry air.
It was Fall,
But it was Winter I wanted,
The beautiful snow,
And the joy of the holiday season.
It was Winter,
But it was Spring I wanted,
The warmth,
And the blossoming of nature.
I was a child,
But it was adulthood I wanted,
The freedom,
And respect.
I was twenty,
But it was thirty I wanted,
To be mature,
And sophisticated.
I was middle-aged,
But it was twenty I wanted,
The youth,
And the free spirit.
I was retired,
But it was middle-age I wanted,
The presence of mind,
Without limitations.
My life was over.
But I never got what I wanted.
By Jason Lehman
Jason Lehman was 14 years of age when he wrote the above poem. It was sent to Abigail Van Buren, who after verifying that the poem’s author was indeed ‘a teenager wise beyond his years,’ published it in her newspaper column “Dear Abby” (14 February 1989).