I am
A latent sentimentalist
A closet traditionalist
My once rapier
cutting edge
has been dulled
by time
Tis the natural
erosion of age
as I tumble into
the tranquil pool
of reflection
over all things nostalgic
To dwell in the past
instead of residing
in these sad
middle age daze
where dreams
get buried
by the crushing weight
of adult reality
So here I am
Harvesting memories
thumbing through
a dusty scrapbook
Reminiscing late at night
with that damn clock on the wall
My relentless enemy
who stares down at me impassively
with unwavering efficiency
No comments:
Post a Comment