When we were young and beautiful,
We would so gallantly bathe in glorious sunlight.
So that when dawn would break, the black ravans would flutter and float into the dying of the dark like swollen embers from a marmalade campfire.
I can not recall such bliss and happiness.
Seconds go by.
Happiness.
Minutes taken away.
A gratitude for life.
Hours gone by.
Its time to go in.
Days go by.
The moment of bliss slips through our fingers like dusty sand.
Weeks whizzing by.
Taxman coming down on us.
Years torn up like wasted paper.
You are dangling by your neck.
Decades crumbling down like collapsing buildings.
I my elderly self rests in my shallow presense enjoying the antique memories of what a happy life looks like.