Reflections on a Class Reunion

A forty-fifth high school reunion passes,
My classmates and I, hardly lads or lasses,
Although it was great to renew the bond,
A peculiar feeling I have found,
One of melancholy, a bittersweet taste,
A mortal warning, not pondered in haste,

The passing of a number of age-peered souls,
And most of us, in the autumn of our years,
Yet I still pursue my childhood goals,
Despite the rejections, the blood, sweat and tears.

As father time moves on faster,
Closing in on goals I've yet to master,
Some of us shine in the bask of autumnal bliss,
Laureled, content, rightfully serene,
But for me there is something amiss,
As I yearn for the fruition of an American dream.