As the years add up,
The sun and tears carve wrinkles -
Momentos to be seen in the morning mirror.
The skin grows so thin
That a simple scratch draws blood,
And the heart grows weary
From the losses it carries...
Speeches fall apart
And the disconnect is so acute.
There may be wisdom, but it hidden
Under the chaos born
Of making sense of this world forlorn.
Yesterday is quickly forgotten,
When weaved into the tapestry
Of so many poignant moments gotten
Livng in the decades
Of this rat-race Modern Age.
not a very happy poem -
the physical aches and pains
are stark reminders
I'm not young again.
"I yearn for comforts,
As I march to oblivion..."
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