
A Poem: Too Old to Be Seen, Too Wise to Be Broken
by bernt & torsten
They saw my years, not the code I wrote,
Dismissed the knowledge I carried, remote.
I stayed up late, lines of logic in flow,
Learning AI’s depths, the things I could show.
But they chose the younger, the shiny and green,
Ignored my expertise, the skills unseen.
An app to be built, a task I could lead,
Yet I was sidelined, left to concede.
I took the time to master the new,
APIs, frameworks, the tech's debut.
Built my own app, proved I could rise,
But their blinders stayed firm, no surprise.
The younger colleague, lacking the ground,
Was handed the task, their praises resound.
While I stood in silence, my value ignored,
As they stumbled through concepts I had explored.
This isn’t about age—it’s about respect,
A chance to be heard, not just to reject.
For the wisdom I carry is earned, not free,
It’s the backbone of what this work could be.
They think age is a weight, a thing to dismiss,
But it's depth and foresight they truly miss.
While they chase the new, I’ve mastered the old,
Blending both worlds, a story untold.
So I’ll keep building, with or without their nod,
For my skills are sharp, my resolve is iron-clad.
Their oversight’s a loss they’ll one day regret,
For age isn’t a barrier - it’s a winning bet.

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A Poem: Too Old to Be Seen, Too Wise to Be Broken
They saw my years, not the code I wrote,
Dismissed the knowledge I carried, remote.