Charles Burowski writes a straightforward poem that tackles and contemplates on life. The narrator sees life as a form of waiting, always looking for the essence and purpose in life, but then in the latter they reminisce the youthfulness of the years and the realization that time does not stand still as we will grow old.

So Now? by Charles Bukowski
the words have come and gone,
I sit ill.
the phone rings, the cats sleep.
Linda vacuums.
I am waiting to live,
waiting to die.
I wish I could ring in some bravery.
it's a lousy fix
but the tree outside doesn't know:
I watch it moving with the wind
in the late afternoon sun.
there's nothing to declare here,
just a waiting.
each faces it alone.
Oh, I was once young,
Oh, I was once unbelievably
young!

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