As I am Able

I am too old, my dear,
To love you as I would.
And if by weakness I should choose your embrace,
War has hardened my heart, too much, I think,
To love you as I should.

I cannot ask your love, my dear,
For I have wasted many years
Repairing imperfections.
Callow indiscretions.
And I have known them, known them all.

I have exhausted our best years.


I would choose to see you happy,
Indulge your youthful energies,
Even your beauty, as I am able.
Your love, if I am able.