Here I sit brooding
in my tattered old chair,
with my crumpled up face
and my thinning white hair.
My mouth stiffly set
with the corners turned down,
reflects what's inside,
in a permanent frown.
As I look through the years
of a life sad and long,
I understand now
what I did to go wrong.
I believed that contentment
came from the outside,
but the more I piled up,
the more peace was denied.
Career, goods and money,
it wasn't found there.
Now I sit here alone
in my tattered old chair.
So I wasted life waiting
for joy to find me.
Oh I could've been happy,
but I didn't choose to be.