Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
her sun spots bragged of
summers spent reckless
and her silver locks of
once box dyed glory.
her drooping skin bragged of
first kisses and a hundred men’s touch—
from her so-called “glory days.”
her plump figure bragged of
children bore and
lovers loved and
a thousand lives lived.
in this old age I deemed her ageless—
having lived more in one lifetime
than most could dream to do in four.
Marla R Nov 8
Feeling old as I see my youth slip away in the mirror, having lost all of my friends
through some venture into the ether.

Fighting to keep up while struggling against time, bills & notices piling up as the clever fox starts to fall more behind.

Seeking answers through ancient revelations that seem to no longer apply, yet feeling as though moving forward is still some sort of a crime.

Gazing outwards into the world in an attempt to understand what’s within,
deciphering old feelings that refuse to stop wearing me thin.

Every step taken pushes me further into the unknown, following my heart towards a future where the sun’s light is one with my own.

Visions of times not yet reached glimmer in my daydreams, a hopeful contrast to a hectic world steadily unraveling at the seams.
Skies shining indigo & orange unto people from all walks of life who’ve come together for the common cause that is shifting darkness into light.
Chris Saitta Sep 26
Even when
All is said and done,
And I have become
A guardian angel
Over my past self,
Even then,
I have failed.
The warmth of a single sun ray
The graceful dance of fallen leaves
Cotton candy skies before nightfall
Someday I will miss all of these

When my body can no longer move on it’s own
Or when my mind has wandered too far
I will miss the simplistic joys of daily living
That life’s luxuries cannot come to par

One day I’ll miss making my own hearty meal
Living off of my own two hands
For now, they still carry my capability
An independence residing in my grasp

There will come a day, an inevitable day
When my home will become a house
And my name ridden with memories
If the pain of the heart allows

Until my last breath escapes my chest
And my eyes close for one last time
I hope to live a life written in nostalgia
So I can say my life was truly mine
Ken Pepiton Jul 29
Here's one, eight lines from go
go man

gotcha, johnny be good slood
on a legendary curse

justice, sir, I must say, I just ring the bell.
In timing my therapies, I make up thinks I may forget, for future use.
Ken Pepiton Jul 28
So look, if I was you,
as you know,
I am not, and when I say otherwise,
I mean

in we form,
as we agree, we be, of one mind
times fly eyes-wise blurring
Having been born in Nineteen hundred forty-four,
Some say (and rightly so) I'm from "the days of yore;"
Wars were being fought, and the whole world seemed deranged,
Though many years have passed, the world's course has not changed;
But I know I have changed -- now with faltering sight
I search in vain for the dreams that never took flight

I was young once and focused on my golden dreams
Of romance, love, adventure . . . the very same themes
That you dream about, I still dream at this late stage --
So I know how you feel . . . we're on the same page;
Throughout life we reach for the brass ring, but at length
We have to admit we no longer have the strength

I understand now why back then old folks would speak
Of how "the spirit's willing, but the flesh is weak;"
And I yearn for the dawn of my life's yesterday
To once again pursue those dreams that went astray;
But the winds of Time are whispering a simple truth:
It's too late for me now . . . the spoils belong to youth
Simon B Jul 17
Line dial phone rings the past
what was, what is, and what lasts
The fast, the gracious and the present
Year after year, tone after tone
Toll free collecting
The connection between me and myself
Becoming ever so inconsistent.
“What man am I?” I ask.
“I don’t know “says me on the receiving side
I am a different person, same body, same tone
I am a old soul lurking, same mind, same goals.
What man am I?
When you put change in the public phone do you hear the same man breathing on the other end?
Carlo C Gomez Jun 18
When youth was moth, love flowed over us in prismatic waves—systems of romance.

Then came the phoenix of your heart, and everything was a ceiling. I moved clockwise past infinite shadow and onto your wall.

Sorry to wake you. [...] I forgot to tell you something. [...] I'm like the sun or perhaps the moon. And there are times when I know I'll make you sad.

Distant polyglot in its timbres, its psychological profile, and its pulse, it could not sound less like a soundtrack for a search. More like a Middle Eastern funeral.

Stemmed from a shared anxiety over self-definition in an indefinite world, and each of them has searched for answers in the amorphous space between where “you” end and “I” begin.

By turns, august and sweet—revealed a complex stillness, a set of detached passions attempting to rebuild themselves, a desensitized state searching for soul.

I have loved you into oblivion and now move into thin air. Please remember me as a time of day. As long as you can hold your breath, we'll always be together.
Adam Jun 17
What is it that I truly seek?
What happened to the beauty,
in all that I used to see?

Can someone explain what happened to me?

I used to have the buzz and the impetus, that you'd see in a bee.
But these days, I look like a stone tied to a tree.

Asking myself,
at which age did happiness decide to flee?
Posted this 3 years after writing it
Next page