When I was but a child,
I was told: “Do not go pass the fence.”
When I was a young adult,
I was told: “Failure is an F.”
When I was middle aged,
I was told: “Value is your bank account.”
When I was sixty,
I was told: “You are over the hill.”
Limits.
© 2011, Donald Harbour
Donald Harbour Poetry 
I love the succinctness. The form of the poem is a limit in itself.
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Clever. If you’re over the hill, where does that leave me? The form is most successful in conveying your limits.
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You may be over the hill (or maybe not) – I’m still struggling up it…!
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I am still climbing the hill myself, Donald. Nice concise piece.
Pamela
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I hope you never believe any of those. To be a writer or poet or any kind of artist is simply to question those limits! That hill may be a hard climb, but you ain’t over it til the day you die. Amy
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The first one is the only one that seems to make any sense to me – safety. All the rest are limits that seem misguided. I like the repetition of “I was told.” We got told a lot of things that aren’t true.
Richard
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What Amy said. It ain’t over till it’s over.
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