Picture credit - vintage background by ArtsyBee on Pixabay.com

The need for appreciation, is a need that grows with age, a craving that deepens as supposedly wisdom dawns on us. 

Maybe it is because we neither have the resilience of the young nor the hope of youth. 

All we have are dusty memories of times gone by, of opportunities lost and grim reminders of our morality. 

A gnawing despair that loving ourselves, though necessary, is not enough. 

A stark realisation that we, on our own, only on the strength of our singular convictions, would never constitute a legacy. 

That once our soul departs this clay that bears our name, we shall return to dust, a mere whisper in the eternal march of time. 

And that being appreciated is the only way we could achieve a sliver of immortality, however, fleeting that could be.