Here go I
Frogmarched into a fiftieth year.
Painfully aware
Of time
Slipping like sand
Through open fingers.
Painfully aware
That I am still alone,
Undone,
Half done,
A thin, soft voice
In a loud cacophony.
Painfully aware
Of all that has
Passed me by,
While I slept
And crept
And wept
Through the years
Of my vitality.
Painfully aware
That hopes of love
And warmth
And deepest kisses
Are lost,
Muddied and torn:
The heavy costs
Of compromise.
Painfully aware
That others of my ilk
Never came so far.
Painfully aware
Of the depths
Of my fragility.
This post first appeared on Sunny Spells And Scattered Showers, please read the originial post: here